


Twilight Is For The Dying Stars

by saph, SnorkleShit



Series: Twilight Is For The Dying Stars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angels And Humans, Collars, Country Seperation, Multi, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, owner!dean, slave!Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 131,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saph/pseuds/saph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where angels are enslaved in the South and free in the North, the country is divided by a giant wall. Dean Winchester lives with his family in the South, and although he hates slavery, he swore a long time ago to have nothing to do with slavery at all.</p><p>Funny how that works out.</p><p>Meanwhile, a battered and long abused Castiel struggles with his omega nature and his rebel, aggressive spirit, and what it really means to be free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Planting Seeds In The Pavement

**Author's Note:**

> You're alone, you're on your own, so what?  
> Have you gone blind?  
> Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?  
> Glass half empty, glass half full  
> Well either way you won't be going thirsty  
> Count your blessings not your flaws  
> \- Lauren Aquilina 'King'

Dean rolled his eyes at the red light, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He was annoyed at the shitty traffic in particular, and in general, because Sam's professor was keeping them in, which left it up to Dean to go pick up Jess from her shift at the clinic.

There were pros and cons to sharing a set of conjoined apartments with his brother and his girlfriend. Not that he didn't love them, but he had a God given right to be annoyed silently.

Luckily, the clinic wasn't far. Sometimes it was a hassle to get in the door, when there were big anti-slavery mobs picketing outside. They had good hearts, but they were yelling at the wrong people. Jess and her coworkers (a few of them, at least) were just trying to help the slaves.

_"The best way to help the slaves in the system is to be part of the system yourself. It's a struggle, and there are sacrifices, but I've saved more lives than I can count on one hand since I've been at the clinic. It's the best I can do, at least, this side of the Wall."_ Jess always said. And he agreed with her. 

He himself was just a mechanic, and he worked next to slaves, shoulder to shoulder, all day. Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was the one holding their lives in his hand, as long as they were under his shift-management. If he wanted, he could beat them, rape them, and kill them in that window of time until his shift was over, but he couldn't sell or free them. Legally, they weren't his, but sometimes he sure felt like he was the one strapping the collars on. Dean didn't say anything. He didn't do a damn thing outside of what he had to, he didn't even look at them. He avoided slaves and slavery the best he could. Stay out of it, that was his motto.

People thought, with parents like his, and his well placed silence on the matter, that he was a supporter. Far from it - it disgusted him, on every level possible. He hated slavery more than most people could imagine, at least, south of the Wall. He imagined up North they would understand him very well. Sam and Jess understood his hatred of slavery, but not his refusal to get involved at all. The two of them went to every anti-slavery event, donated, anything they could.

He pulled into the clinic parking lot, which was close to empty. Bless whatever was actually in the sky or whatever. Dean headed into the clinic, nodding and winking at the secretary, Tara. She just glared back grimly, and Dean was suddenly struck by the unusually somber air of the clinic.

"She's back in the operation room, you better get her out of there before she kills Doctor Masters and the clients." She said, jerking her thumb down the hall. Dean hurried down it. The closer he got to the double the doors, the easier it was to hear Jess's raised voice.

"Doctor, we are not this kind of clinic, this is a place of healing. We have never performed this kind of act before, it is barbaric!" She screeched.

A man's voice scorned hers. "I am the one in charge here, and just because I'm your new boss doesn't mean you can throw a fit, girl! Now get the syringe before I fire you!" He hissed.

Dean burst through the door. Everyone in the white-washed room froze. Two nurses were trying to hold an angel down to the table, even though he already seemed to be strapped to it. He had small wings - an omega - that were probably light in color, but Dean couldn't tell from under all the dirt they were covered in. He had shocking blue eyes, full of fear and fire. A strange balance for an omega, to be sure.

A man in scrubs glared at him, who was towering over a furious looking Jess. A balding man in a suit stood off to the side, looking smug.

"Who the hell are you?" Dr. Masters, the man in scrubs, asked harshly.

"He's my boyfriend's brother; he's here to pick me up. But I'm not leaving until you stop what you’re doing!" She announced firmly.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Dean asked, bewildered and slightly uneased.

"They're going to murder that angel! We aren't a euthanizing clinic!" Jess exclaimed. Dean's eyes widened, and they flicked over to the angel, who was glaring at them all, sizing them up, scouting out the room desperately; looking for a way out. He was already covered in scars and blood and bruises, wearing only tattered pants and sneakers, and a rough looking collar that ground into the skin around his neck it seemed.

There seemed to be a strength and a horrible weakness about him all at once, and it took Dean completely off guard.

Dean looked back at the others and asked, "What did he do?"

The suited man spoke up. "Not that it's any of your business, but he is a particularly disobedient slave. He's dangerous, in the way that he slips between proper submission and biting the balls off my clients. I can't keep him for obvious reasons, and no one will buy him; he's a freak. He's brought this on himself, it's no concern of yours, it'll be painless anyway. Less than I can say about a few of my men." He said dryly, as if he was only half interested in this whole thing.

Dean blanched at that image, but tried not to show it. The tension in the room made it hard to think clearly.

Which was probably why he did what he did next: "Three hundred."

Everyone stared at him, and the man raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"I'll give you three hundred for him." Dean elaborated. Jess' eye's widened, as did those of the nurses. The angel narrowed his.

"My name is Zachariah, and what might yours be?" The suited man outstretched a hand.

Dean didn't shake it. "Dean. Three hundred. And don't you dare try and bargain higher, you were about to stick a death needle in him, he's not worth anything to you anymore. I'm being generous. Take it or leave it and get no profit out of this whole damn thing." Dean said lowly.

Zachariah studied him for a moment, considering. The eyes in the room flicked back and forth between them like the audience of a tennis match.

"Sold. Let's go fill out the paperwork in the lobby. Another time, Masters. Get Castiel here prepared to go with this good man, and you'll still get your money for your trouble." Zachariah said, and then led Dean into the lobby. They signed contracts, and then Dean was suddenly the proud owner of someone he didn't even know. 

Jess was yelling in the back room again. Zachariah smiled, and walked out the door. Dean prayed it was the last time he'd see the creep of the man. He tucked the papers in his pocket and headed back to the sound of Jess yelling.

"…this is unnecessary! It won't fit in the car, anyway! It's cruel and you know it, Dr. Masters! Stop it!" She demanded.

Dean turned a corner to find the angel fighting off nurses that were being ordered to shove him into a small kennel cage, and Jess was trying to pull them away. Dr. Masters stood watching. The angel was already tied up in handcuffs and arm binders, along with wing chains.

Dean stepped forward. "Stop! She's right, it won't fit, just let him go." He asked. They complied, and the angel back away from all of them, glaring.

"He's a rebel, and dangerous. He'll run." Dr. Masters protested.

Dean scoffed, and stepped closer to the angel. "I don't think he's going to run away from the man who is trying to save his life in a country full of bastards that would drink to his death." Dean said, looking the angel straight in the eyes as he slowly outstretched his hand. The angel looked over him, considering, before hesitantly taking his hand.

He led a raging Jess and a silent, angry, and scared angel out to the car, and made Jess get in the back with the angel.

"That Dr. Masters, ever since he's taken over, I can't believe what the clinic's become! I may have to quit!" She steamed, before taking a deep breath and turning her attention to the angel. She smiled softly. "It's gonna be alright now, we're gonna take good care of you. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again." She assured him. The angel scoffed, and turned to stare out the window.

"I'm serious! Where we are going, they don't hurt angels or omegas." Jess said firmly. 

The angel shot her a look, ballsy for a slave, let alone an omega. "Everywhere in the world they hurt angels and omegas." He said lowly, in a gravel voice that spoke of unfathomable things. Then something seemed to occur to him, and he paled, and bowed his head, adopting a neutral expression. "But of course, whatever Mistress and Master says is true. Forgive me." He said, in a softer, submissive voice. Dean blinked, unsettled at the shift of attitude.

Jess just nodded, looking exhausted. Dean didn't blame her. This was going to be harder than they would be able to imagine, whatever the _hell_ they thought they were doing.

Ah, shit. He'd never hear the end of this from Dad. Or from everyone he knew. He'd have to house him, feed him, clothe him, find some way to untangle the web of fucked up shit he'd been through, protect him from the whole damn country. He'd never be able to get over the Wall with an angel in tow, he didn't have that kind of money. Just what he needed. A slave, an _angel_ of all things.

He must have lost his good damn mind.

There were worse things to lose, he reminded himself grimly, glancing at the chains around the angel.

\---

Castiel squirmed at the extreme discomfort and constriction of the many bonds he was forced in. He felt the eyes of his new master examining him through the rear view mirror, and kept his eyes down it the most submissive manner he could muster. He was given a second chance. Maybe this time he would finally be the proper omega he was supposed to be.

The event that had just taken place was like a wake up call to him. Sure, he hated what he was, how he was treated, how the attitude he held was nothing at all what any omega should have. But nothing scared him worse than death. The adrenalin was still pumping through his veins.

Everyone has their own theories on what is yet to come for them after death, but Castiel wasn't sure, and honestly, didn't want to find out. Some people found comfort in the thought of Heaven, but Castiel knew he'd never go to a place so pure and clean. He was one of nature's screw-ups. And anyway, if God cast them out in the first place, who was to say He wanted them back? If he was going anywhere, it would be below in Hell, or somewhere worse. He didn’t like to think about it.

"Your name's Castiel, right?" Master asked.

"Yes, Master. That is the name I was born with, but now that I am yours, you may call me whatever please, Master." He kept his tone as gentle and still as he could, though it came out raspy and laboured. Talking was very difficult as the tight collar around his neck cut deep into his skin, choking him. He kept his breaths quick and shallow, fighting off the black dots threatening to take over his vision. 

Master took a moment to consider and said, "How about ‘Cas’?"

_Cas…_ he thought. He actually didn't mind that one, and he found it a bit sweet when compared to the many other names he’s been called. _"You're getting attached already? That's dangerous. He may talk good now but just you wait, once you're at your new home, he'll take you and have his merry way with you, and who knows what that would be."_ said a voice in Castiel's head. It was right, though. No matter what Castiel had tried in the past, he could never leave the life that came with wearing the collar.

"Oh, and you can drop the 'Master' stuff around Jess and I. Call me Dean."

_Dean_ , Castiel considered. He could see Dean smile through the rear view mirror and looked down once again in submission. He was going to show them how good he could really be, that there was no reason for him to be put down.

"When we get to my -- our -- apartment, you can get out of those chains and wash up. You look like you were rolling around in the dirt." Dean joked.

"I'm sorry." Castiel said quietly.

"Sorry for what?" Dean sounded confused.

"I'm-- for being dirty." He looked down to his handcuffed hands and bound arms. He hadn't really noticed the extend of his external filth until Dean brought it up just now.

"Hey, it's not your fault, Cas. It's probably that douchebag Zachariah's fault. Ugh," Dean hit his steering wheel, "I hate that guy." Castiel felt the same, though, it wasn’t his place to express it.

Dean made a sound of frustration after a few moments silence, and Castiel couldn't help but feel it was directed to him. He knew it wasn't very likely, but what if Dean just realized his mistake, that he wasted good money on an aggressive omega. No, that aggressive side of his was gone now, he pushed it away. He was now going to be fully and utterly obedient and submissive, just as he always should have been.

"What is it, Dean?" asked the kind nurse, Jess.

"This goddamn traffic! Could it get any slower?"

"Hey, don't jinx it now," Jess was looking up something on her phone, "Apparently, there's been a car accident a few blocks away. That explains the backup..."

Castiel peered out the window cautiously. There were so many cars, so many people. He hadn’t been out like this in years, nor this overwhelmed.

"Don't worry, Cas. We'll be home soon." Dean offered him a small smile of assurance, but it did little affect to sooth Castiel's worry. His expression may be blank, but truthfully, he was afraid. New masters always made him feel fearful, even when they always bought him for the same thing: sex. He was an omega after all, what else are omegas good for? Nothing. They are fully dependent, their masters were to provide for their needs. They are to be submissive in every way, obeying whatever their masters order, no matter how extreme an order may be.

There was a chance, a small chance, that Dean and Jess may be different from past owners, whom were cruel and sadistic. Castiel had lived through all they put him through without saying a word. He may not have said anything, but there had been a few times where aggression came from nowhere and he acted out in defiance. That never offered good consequences.

As the vehicle began to slow down, Castiel realized that they must have reached their destination.

_"You should run right when they open the door. You can get away from all this!"_ The voice called out from the back of his head, the voice that always brought him trouble.

_"No."_ Castiel replied to it firmly, _"I have to be good. I can’t run. Where would that get me?"_ He knew full well what would happen. It would be a useless attempt that would only lead to things unthinkable. Not only that, but he would never get far in his bindings. 

Dean parked the car in the apartment parking lot and stepped out of the car.

"Do you need any help getting out, Castiel?" Jess asked kindly.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," Castiel tried to say as genuinely as he could, but by the sad smile Jess gave him, he took it that Jess didn't buy it. That or she pitied him. But why would a human pity an angel?

The car door opened and Castiel looked up to his new master. He offered Castiel a hand, which he reluctantly accepted the best he could in his chains and got out of the car. As he walked with them into the building, all the aches and pains in his body made themselves known. Silently, Castiel wished that 'wash up' meant taking a nice, hot bath, and not being hosed down with freezing water in a room made of cement.

Dean grabbed a key card out of his pocket and swiped the lock. The door beeped and Dean and Jess walked in with a stumbling Castiel in tow. He was grateful that they considered the pain he was in when they took the elevator instead of the stairs.

Floor 3, that was where his new home lied. From what he could tell by just walking through the hallway, the place seemed nice enough. However nice the furnishings were didn't matter. Some of the nicest homes held the most cruel of humans.

The door beeped similar to the one before and Dean opened the door, letting the angel walk slowly through the threshold first. Castiel was welcomed with a sense of home, or what he thought any home should be like. There were empty beer bottles here and there, dirty dishes by the sink, a few articles of clothing lying on the couch. Lived in, that is what this apartment was.

"I wasn't expecting company, so it's a bit dirty. Sorry about that." Dean ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, "Well, I guess you ain't exactly company."

"Castiel, come here." Jess beckoned him over to her as she pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. He obeyed, slowly taking his seat, and what seemed from out of nowhere, Jess was holding a pair of metal cutters that caught Castiel off guard, causing him to sink back in the seat in fear.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," Jess said gently, "I'm just going to cut you free. They weren't thoughtful enough to give us the key." Slowly, she moved the cutters in front of Castiel and cut the handcuffs from his wrists. As they clinked on the ground, he felt like a small weight had be taken off of him. Next came the ones holding his arms in place. He rubbed at his wrists, scarred from years of shackles continuously biting into his skin. 

"There you go. Now, I'm going to cut the chains from your wings." Castiel gave a faint nod and continued to rub at his wrists. Peering up through his lashes, he found Dean watching him as he slowly became free of his binds. He felt the urge to glare at him, but he reminded himself of what was to come if he didn't act the way he was meant to. He only stared blankly, finally taking in what his new master looked like.

The first thing he was drawn to were those eyes; big, green eyes. Long lashes. Freckles dashed across his nose and below were a beautiful set of plump pink lips. He was rather attractive, and must have been popular with the other humans.

"Dean, go fill the tub with warm water, we gotta get these wounds clean as soon as we can." Jess said over Castiel's shoulder.

"Oh yeah, right." He walked off in the direction the bathroom was, Castiel supposed. _A warm bath_. Wishes really do come true.

The chain dropped from his wings and he gave them a small shake, but stopped and winced at a sharp pain that shot through his right wing.

"Easy there," Jess slowly took a hand to his wing and examined it. "It's hard to tell with all this dirt caked on but, yep. It’ll probably be best to keep it bandaged for a few days, just to be safe." That didn't surprise Castiel. At least he knew he'd be getting proper medical attention. That was a small comfort.

"The tub's all filled!" Dean called from the bathroom.

"Come, let's get you clean." Jess lent him a hand and he accepted it gratefully.

The bathroom was of a fair size, smaller than the one at Master Zachariah's, that was for certain, but it wasn't so small that the three of them were all cramped.

Castiel looked to the bathtub. The water looked so inviting. 

"Go ahead and get in, Cas. I'll be right back." And with that, Jess and Dean left the bathroom.

"Let him borrow some of your clothes for the night," Castiel overheard Jess. By her hushed tone, he figured he wasn't exactly supposed to hear what they were saying. He couldn't help it that he had keen ears.

"We'll go buy him proper clothing tomorrow." Jess continued. 'Proper clothing' could mean many things. He guessed it would have to be a surprise.

He looked down to his pants and began to take them off, only then realizing he was still wearing shoes. Castiel felt a rush of panic. Dirt was probably trailed all over their apartment now, thanks to him. There was nothing he could do about it now, and if he was to be punished, he would accept it like any good omega would.

Taking a painful breath, he took off his shoes with care, hoping not to get dirt anywhere else unnecessarily. Next came his tattered pants, which were also filthy, but he folded them as neatly as he could to show that he was worth their purchase.

Castiel looked up, realizing that there was a large mirror hanging there. It was at that moment that he finally got a good look at himself in his current state. Under the dirt that layered his skin, he could make out multiple cuts and bruises from the previous night's beating, alongside the old and new scars. A sight to behold, he was.

He winced as he moved his neck. The collar around it was about two sizes too small, cutting brutally into his skin and seemed to tighten every time he took a breath. The client he had the night before had been a Southern government agent, and had a sick kink of fucking his angels with collars much too small, almost choking them to death when he tugged at the chain. There had been a few times he caused him to blackout in the past, but this time, he had gotten quite angry with him, and it surprised them both when instead of a superb blowjob that came from the mouth of Heaven, he received a painful castration from Castiel's pearly whites. It wasn't the greatest move, Castiel admitted to himself. The government agent was the only one with the key to his collar, so unless Dean and Jess hunted down another agent, he was stuck with this one digging into his neck that caused pain and lack of oxygen to his lungs. He was getting dizzy; he needed to sit down.

Castiel slowly climbed into the tub and let himself sink into the warm water. He winced a bit as it touched his open wounds. Just as he did, Jess gave the door a light knock and walked in with a washcloth.

"Hey, Castiel, how's the water?" She asked.

"Very nice, thank you Mistress." He replied politely.

"When it's just us, you may call me Jess," she smiled, "You can think of us more as friends than owners." No, no, he couldn't. That was dangerous.

Even though he couldn't do that, he nodded in acknowledgement. 

Jess wet the washcloth with the bathwater and started to wipe away the dirt from his skin. It stung when it rubbed against the cuts and bruises, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"Soon Cas, we're all going to head up North. Not exactly sure when, but we will, once we get enough money." Jess said as she washed gently, "And you will come with us. You'll be free there."

Castiel shot her a look, but instantly remembered his place and turned his head back down. Freedom, he wasn't really sure what that was anymore, but it seemed too far fetched for someone like him. He could feel himself start to understand that these were good humans, but he had been wrong before, and Castiel knew firsthand the things the government does to the people who fight for angels' freedom. It was a dangerous game his new master and mistress were playing.

Castiel let out a surprised, pained hiss when Jess went to clean around his collar.

Jess let out a gasp and frowned, "I’m sorry. I wish I could just cut it off, but I can't." Underneath the leather of the collar was a metal ring, very hard to break, and if it was broken while it was around his neck, he would die instantly. "Don't worry, Cas. We'll get that off of you soon." With care, she dabbed the dirt and blood away from his neck. She was so gentle with him, so caring. It was a really nice change. Even so, he couldn't let himself get attached. _Never again._

By the end of the bath, the water had turned lukewarm and murky. With Jess's helping hands, Castiel got out of the tub and let her wrap a towel around his naked body. She pulled out a stool from the other side of the door. 

"Dry off as much as you can. I'll be right back with bandages." Jess said as she left the bathroom. Castiel padded himself off with the fluffy towel and hesitantly looked at himself in the mirror. Without all that dirt, the contrast between bruise and skin was very apparent, given how pale he was from rarely stepping outdoors. He was normally locked in his cell or in a client room when he was with Master Zachariah, and chained outside in the rain when He felt like Castiel deserved it.

Jess came back into the bathroom with a first aid kit in hand, along with some extra medical supplies.

"Can you sit on the stool, please?" Jess asked. He sat down and Jess took one of his arms and treated the wounds there first. He could tell she was trying to train her face to be disconnected, but he could see the sadness in her eyes, maybe even a bit of anger.

The urge to defend his former master rose from within him and he couldn't help himself for speaking out of turn, "I was bad I - I deserve all this you don't have to--"

"Castiel, stop." Jess said firmly. He realized what he had done and lowered his head in shame, trying to hide the fear that resided in his eyes. He was trying so hard to be good, obedient, to do whatever to survive. No matter how hard he tried, he always did wrong.

"Cas, look at me," Jess placed a hand under his chin and brought his face up to meet hers. Looking into his fearful eyes, she said, "You don't deserve this, Castiel. Nobody deserves to be treated this way." Her voice was softer, but still held firm, "Do you understand?"

Castiel wanted to argue against her, not understanding her, but he only nodded, and thankfully that was enough to please Jess.

She dressed and bandaged the cuts that covered his body. When it came time to do his wing, she took a moment to seek further the extent of the damage dealt on it.

"Yeah, it's sprained. Best it’s bandaged for a few days." She told Castiel. The wrappings were tight, but when she was finished, it did feel a bit better.

"There you go. How's that?" Jess asked.

"Better. Thank you, Jess."

Jess smiled, "I'm gonna make a call and see if we can get that collar off of you. Oh, here," She grabbed a pile of folded clothing, "you can change into these." Castiel picked up the shirt first, an old white t-shirt.

"May I see that for a sec?" Jess held a hand out, "I'll cut you some wing holes." Castiel handed it to her and watched as two holes were torn into the fabric.

"I'll go make that call now. Come out when you're done." With that, Castiel was alone in the bathroom again. He looked through the pile and found that they provided him with boxer shorts, sweat pants, and the t-shirt. They could have easily made him strut around naked, but he supposed he wasn't very pleasant to look at right now. Not that he wasn’t thankful for them, quite the oposite, really. He was more than thankful. One would think a pleasure slave like him would have no sense of decency left in him, but that was not the case. 

He slipped his legs carefully through the holes in the underwear. They were a bit big and loose, but he wasn't complaining. Next was the sweat pants. If it wasn't for the drawstring, they would have slipped from his hips and onto the floor. Now, the shirt. It hurt a bit more to put it on than anything else, but he managed. As he pulled it down from bundling up at his chest, he flapped his wings a bit until they escaped through the holes. He leveled out his shallow breaths and turned to the mirror to evaluate himself.

His hair was mess, but so was the rest of him. The clothes were too big on him, but the bandages made him look a bit bigger in places anyways. It was nice to be covered nonetheless. From there, his eyes trailed towards the door. Jess told him to leave the bathroom when he was done, so he supposed he should do what he was told.

Nervously, he stepped out, and wasn't quite sure where he was supposed to go; he wasn't told where. He decided to just follow his feet.

Turning around the corner, he saw Jess speaking with someone on the phone. "Please, we need you at Dean's." He could hear the muffled sound of someone speaking on the other end. "Yes. Yes, now. Thank you! Yep, for sure. See you soon!" She hung up and realized that Castiel was standing there, staring.

"Hey!" She called to him and he jumped a bit, "a friend of ours is coming over. She's gonna take that thing off of you, and then you'll be able to breathe." A government agent was coming. He wasn't fond of them whatsoever.

"So I got the room as clean as I could--" Dean stopped when he spotted Castiel standing there. He shuffled a bit under Dean's stare.

"Castiel, you can come sit on the couch while we wait for Pamela to come." Jess said.

Dean made a nod of approval. “Good.”

In the kitchen, Jess was rummaging through Dean's fridge, "You really have to go grocery shopping."

“I know, I’ll go tomorrow.” Dean said as he went to sit on the coffee table across from where Castiel was sitting. “We’ll eat after we get that thing off of you.” He winced, “That’s gotta be painful.” _Very._

There was a knock at the door and Dean stood up as Jess answered the door.

"So, I hear someone needs the government's help!" Came a cheery feminine voice, to whom Castiel only assumed belonged to this 'Pamela'.

"Never thought I'd say it, but yeah." Dean looked over to Castiel and shrugged. Pamela walked into the room, and she was not what Castiel had expected. Instead of the stuffy government type he was used to dealing with, she gave off more of a biker vibe, with her hair down, black cutoff top and skinny jeans. She really threw him off.

"So, this is the angel. What's your name, sweetie?" Pamela asked with a cheery voice as she kneeled beside him.

"Castiel," he said warily.

"Well Castiel, I hear you're having some trouble." She approached him and knelt down to examine his collars. She clicked her tongue, "Yikes, who did this to you?" Her tone was more serious.

"A client." Castiel stated.

"And he didn't put yours back on after you two were done?"

Castiel gave his head a slight shake and said blatantly, "He was rushed to the hospital after I bit his balls off."

All of them looked at him with shock, and Dean maybe a bit terrified. Did they not hear what Zachariah said at the clinic?

Pamela whistled a low whistle, "Wow, that was really ballsy of you." Castiel raised an eyebrow as both Dean and Jess hid their faces in their hands.

"O-of course that was very wrong for me to do and I won't do it again." Castiel added quickly, looking to Dean. When Dean caught his stare, he visibly tensed.

But Castiel was sincere. If Dean wanted him to suck him off, he'd do it happily. I mean, he owed him as much. He saved him. He saved _his life_. Castiel was nothing more than an angel, easily replaced, but Dean decided that he was worth saving. When the time came, Castiel was going to show him his gratitude the only way he knew how.

"Now, Castiel, you have to stay very still for me. I don't want you to suffer any further discomfort than you need to." Pamela took the key and began to unlock it.

The key was long and small, just able to fit into the small keyhole. It seemed simple enough, but even so, no matter who attempted, remakes could not be made unless it was at the facility in which they were created, and nothing could pick the locks on the collars, and no one dared to try. Whether it was truth or myth, Castiel didn't know, but the tales he heard of angels who tried to unlock them were absolutely devastating.

"There you go! Jess, you're going to want to treat that right away." Pamela said with the small collar in her hand. 

Castiel took a few deep breaths, finally being able to fill his lungs with the amount of air that was needed. He basked at the freedom around his neck, breaths coming in and out easily, with nothing hindering or paining him in the process. He almost cried. 

"That's much better, isn't it?" Pamela smiled. Castiel nodded slightly as his breaths began to slow back to normal. “I’m no doctor, but that’ll probably leave a scar.” 

"Looks as if,” Jess observed. Castiel didn’t really care. He was just happy that it was finally off and though it still hurt, it felt so much better than before. Both his sight and his head began to clear, helping him come back to his senses. “I need to disinfect this," Jess said with medical supplies in her hands. Castiel hadn't even notice her sitting beside him on the couch until now, "it's gonna sting." Castiel winced, but stayed still and let Jess continue without a word. It did sting, but he didn't mind; as long as it was finally off. That’s all he cared about at this moment.

Jess finished with a thin strip of bandage and let Pamela take it from there.

"Let's get you your proper size," Pamela said as she rummaged through her briefcase filled with collars. Most of them were new, but it wasn't uncommon for deceased angels collars to be in the mix. “Here,” Pamela grabbed out a well-worn one of his size. Castiel felt his heart drop at the thought of wearing a collar again, but what else was he expecting? “I can give you a brand new one in a few weeks, if you want, but it’s smarter to go with an old one for now.” She waved around the collar a bit. “It’s softer, and it shouldn’t irritate you as your neck heals.” Castiel gave her a faint nod of acknowledgement. "There!" She said as she locked it into place, "That should fit much better." She smiled, but Castiel could tell it was forced.

"Thank you, ma'am." Castiel said, lifting his hand up to touch the soft, worn leather, it’s weigh familiar.

"You're welcome." Again, another forced smile.

"You must be starved.” Jess observed, and turned to Dean. “I saw leftover pizza in the fridge.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll go grab it.” He came back with a thin, long white box and opened the lid. "I hope you like pizza. Here, have a slice. I swear, this stuff is even better when it's cold." Dean handed him one, which Castiel accepted with gratitude. He was very hungry, and didn't realize to what extent until the box was opened and the scent hit his nose.

Dean barely finished saying before Castiel was stuffing his face, "Whoa there, slow down!"

Castiel stopped mid bite and looked down, ashamed.

"Don't worry Cas, this pizza's not going anywhere except your stomach. Oh and this piece here. This one's mine." He said as he took a bite, "When was the last time you ate?"

Castiel thought for a moment. "Yesterday morning." He resumed eating his pizza, this time at a slower pace. Dean frowned, but continued eating.

Master Zachariah had liked to keep Castiel on a "restricted diet", said that he had to stay appealing and attractive for all his clients. With Castiel being what he was, it wasn't easy for him to gain weight, and he was quite sure Zachariah knew that. He probably did it for the enjoyment and satisfaction of Castiel practically having to beg for it before he’d be given any, and being too weak from starvation to do anything else than just laying there and taking whatever the clients decided to do with him.

After the relief of having that tortuous collar taken of and the food in his stomach settled, Castiel began to feel how weary he truly was. He couldn’t himself from yawning, causing tears to form at the corner of his eyes.

“You must be tired, Cas; you had quite the day. Dean, will show him his room?" Jess said.

"Sure. Cas, come with me." Dean waved him over and slowly, he followed his master, wondering what kind of room he would have this time, and what surprises lied within.

The room Dean had shown him to was nice, cozy. Queen size bed with many blankets and pillows.

"Sorry it's a bit messy. Tomorrow, you can make it however you want." Dean said.

"Wait, you're letting me stay here?" It seemed so nice, Castiel possibly couldn't sleep here, "You mustn't waste space on me I-I am happy just sleeping on the floor, Dean."

"What? No!" Dean softened his tone, "No, this is your room now. I mean, I guess you can sleep wherever you want, but trust me, the bed beats the floor any day."

Castiel looked at his master, "Thank you, Dean."

"Don't mention it. My home is your home, quite literally." Dean smiled, "Good night, Cas."

"Night, Dean," Castiel spoke before Dean closed the door. He took one more look around the room before he turned off the light and crawled into the bed. Dean was right, it definitely did beat sleeping on the floor.

_"Don't let them trick you,"_ the voice invaded Castiel's head, _"Don't trust them. Never trust anyone. Don't care for them. They will only hurt you. They will only bring you pain."_

\---

Dean sighed, heading into the kitchen and sitting at the table across from Pamela, who silently offered him a beer.

"So, what happened to Mr. I-Want-Nothing-To-Do-With-Slaves? Where did you find that poor schmuck?"

"About to be euthanized at Jess' clinic. I couldn't - I couldn't just let him die. Can't you see it? There's something… about him, I can't put my finger on it, but..." Dean shook his head.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I spend a lot of time with slaves, and he's different. Not any less a person, and not any less a slave, Dean. Don't forget either of those facts." She warned him.

"It's gonna be a million times harder to move up North now, isn't it?" Dean groaned.

Pamela nodded. "You need thousands to pay for his freedom.”

Dean considered this for a moment. "I'll figure something out, don't worry. Right now, I need to concentrate on him. What the hell am I gonna do?" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, first thing’s first: protect him. And help him heal from whatever the fuck they did to him. Treat him like a person, and that's how he'll start to see himself. But make sure he understands not to act that way in public, you know how dangerous that is."

"I know, I know where I live, who I live around, what these people are like. And I know he came from a fucking brothel, and he's probably spent half his damn life being used as a fucktoy, and I know he bit some dudes balls off, but honestly if you were being raped wouldn't you do the same?" he said defensively.

Pamela sighed. "There ain't no such thing as consent for them this side of the wall, Dean."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know. It's not okay, but it's the way it is. Anyway, about that castration thing… you might want to find out more about that. It could have been an accident, or he could have just snapped. Or, he could have a behavioral disorder nobody cares enough to test him for or something. He's yours now, you own him by law, and you need to learn what that means." A stern look, and she was up and gone.

Dean glowered over his beer, swirling it around lazily.

Castiel was his. He'd saved him from being killed. Castiel was going to be killed because he bit a man's fucking balls off, which even the thought of terrified Dean. He had probably spent his whole life being raped, Dean could imagine how that screwed up his head. Dean didn't know if he could do this. What on earth had he been thinking? Oh, right. Keeping an abused person from dying like an animal. He sighed, and pushed away his chair.

Collapsing into his bed, he buried his face into the pillow and tried to forget about those blue eyes.


	2. Frost On The Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never showed you what I want  
> You never told me what you need  
> A match bursting into flames  
> And all is dust soon enough  
> \- To Kill A King 'Choices'

After a few hours of waiting for his new master to re-enter his room and order him spread his legs, Castiel began to wonder if all Dean wanted of him was just to get a good night’s rest. Exhaustion began to take over, and with a few more tugs of the soft blanket, he began to drift off.

Although his new bed was a comfort, it wasn't enough to keep the dreams away. Dreams of memories, fears, a mix of both at times. Some were reoccurring, some forgotten when he awoke from sleep.

The dream that plagued him this night was one of childhood, his childhood.

...

He had to be about six years of age, running and laughing, rolling and tumbling in the soft green grass in the fenced-in backyard of their Northern home.

"I'm gonna get you, Anna!" Castiel called out in Enochian to the girl he was chasing, red hair and a beautiful set of light tawny wings following her every movement.

"No you're not, you're too slow!" The older girl, Anna, called back in the same tongue, taking a sudden turn to her left. Castiel kept running foreword, turning his head just in time for it to meet with a metal pole from their swing set.

"Castiel? Castiel!" Anna yelled when she saw what happened. She ran to his side, "Oh no, are you alright?" Castiel's eyes began to tear up and he began to cry in loud sobs.

"Castiel!" A call came from the back door. Anna turned her head to see their older brother run towards them. "Anael, what the hell happened?" He was more angry than anything, the harsh Enochian syllables making his question ring with demand.

"We-we were playing and then Castiel, he-- Michael, it was an accident! _Please_ don't tell Mother!" Anna begged, now crying herself.

"Anna just--" Michael ran a hand through his dark hair, "just give Castiel to me." The small crying angel half squirmed into his older brother's arms and clung to his shirt.

"Damnit Anna, you're supposed to be careful with him! That's gonna leave a mark, and we'll all get into trouble for it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Anna practically screamed at him. “I-It was an accident!”

"Let's just get him inside." Michael said quickly as he picked the wailing Castiel in his strong arms and walked into the house with a teary, frightened Anna in tow.

He walked to the bathroom and put Castiel up on the counter by the sink.

"I'm so sorry, Castiel." Anna told him with a shaky voice. Michael gently put his hands on the sides of Castiel's face, turning his head to examine the growing goose bump.

He let out a stressed sigh, "I know it really hurts right now, but you gotta stop crying, Castiel. You have to be strong." He consoled him by rubbing his back in small circles just below where his small, downy wings sprouted. “Can you be strong for us?”

Castiel nodded, sniffled, and his cried dissipated to a whimper. He had to be strong. A sense of pride filled his chest when his older siblings offered him small smiles that replaced their worried frowns. The bump on his head throbbed with pain, but he had to be strong for them. He could do it.

"Uh oh... what did you do to little bro?" A boy with golden wings popped his head into to the bathroom. It didn't take him long at all to find the answer, "Oh boy, you guys sure got yourselves in a heap of trouble. Mama's gotta beat your asses good."

"Shut it, Gabriel." Michael snapped.

A ting of guilt hit the small angel, "I got you in trouble?" Castiel asked them. He didn’t want to do that. He loves his siblings, and he knew what their mother was like when she was upset with them.

"Don't worry about it, little brother." Anna offered a smile in hopes to comfort the boy's worry. “It was an accident.”

"Get over here and help me with these groceries!" came a call from a kitchen. Their mother was home. Castiel hopped off the counter and rushed to go help, not wanting her to become mad at them.

"Castiel, wait!" Michael called to him in a hushed tone, but the boy got away too quickly for him to grab.

"I'm outta here, bye!" Gabriel quickly fled the scene with a rush of gold.

Anna gave Michael a panicked look as they heard their mother's voice, "Heavens, Castiel, _what did you do to yourself?_ " She sounded absolutely appalled. Their infant omega brother, Samandriel, began to cry in his carrier from his mother’s sudden loudness, soon being picked up and shushed in his mother’s arms.

Michael rushed into the room with Anna right behind him, "Castiel and I were playing outside and he ran into the swing set." He said before Anna or Castiel could answer.

"Michael--" Anna started, but Michael stopped her and told her to stay back with a small puff of his large tawny wings.

Their mother's face was filled with anger, "How many times have I told you how special and delicate Castiel is? You were supposed to look out for him!" She looked at Anna, "Were you out there with them too, Anael?" Her voice was still stern and angry, though she quieted down so Samandriel wouldn’t start crying again.

"No, it was only me and Castiel." Michael said quickly before Anna could say anything. Anna gave him a worried look then turned back to her mother and nodded slowly to confirm what Michael said.

Their mother shook her head at Castiel, "You stupid, clumsy omega.” she tisked.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, biting his little lip to stop it from trembling.

Mother sighed. "Go to your room.” Castiel nodded and ran off.

His room wasn't too far, just down the hallway and around the corner. His gait faltered when he found his second oldest brother sitting on his bed. He was Michael's younger twin, Lucifer.

"Little Cassie, you just had to get and get yourself hurt, didn't you?" Lucifer sneered, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. Castiel took a few steps back until his small body met the wall. Lucifer was scary.

"Got a little boo-boo on his head." Lucifer got up and made his way towards Castiel.

"I-it was an a-accident!" Castiel stuttered, falling back when Lucifer got in his face.

"Well," Lucifer said coldly, "'accidents' with you don't go unpunished."

"W-what do you mean?" Castiel asked.

"Why don't I show you." He grabbed Castiel firmly by the arm and tugged him down the hallway and up the stairs.

"Luci stop, you're hurting me!" Castiel said as he tried to pull away.

"Shut up and keep quiet." Lucifer demanded quietly and gave him an icy glare. Castiel obeyed and let his brother take the lead. He led Castiel to their mother's room.

"What--"

"Shh." Lucifer said with a hand covering Castiel's mouth. From behind the door he could hear small whimpers underneath the dominating sound of slaps upon skin. Lucifer slowly pushed the door open, just enough for Castiel to see.

Bent over on the bed was his oldest brother, his idol, Michael, biting his forearm to muffle his cries of pain as he was being continuously struck on his bare back and rear end with a leather belt dealt by his own mother.

Castiel let out a gasp at the sight, and Michael glanced at the door, and then their eyes met. He was overwhelmed by the pain and shame in Michael's sad eyes, the way they told him to turn away and leave him be. Castiel had had enough, and started to back away from what he didn't fully understand.

Lucifer tugged him away suddenly back to his room, but Castiel didn't fight him this time.

"He's getting beaten right now because of you." Lucifer said right in his face. "The special little boy got hurt on his watch. Every single time you got a scratch, it's had to be beaten out one someone for letting you get hurt." But every single time he did get hurt, it was only because of his own childish clumsiness and stupidity, that's what he was told.

"Why?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Why, you ask," Lucifer chuckled, "Mother didn't want her special boy to have a single flaw." He brushed a few strands of hair from Castiel's sullen face, "She's going to sell you to the South, you know."

"What?" Castiel cracked. No, mother wouldn't do such a thing. She cared for for him, she would never--

"You'll make her a pretty penny, that's for sure."

"You're lying!" Castiel yelled at him. 

"Hush now, or she'll hear you, and you wouldn't want that." Lucifer put a finger over his mouth and a rush of panic filled his body.

"No..." Castiel shook his head. He knew that many not good things happened to angels down there, especially to ones like him.

"Lucifer," came Michael's broken voice from the doorway, "leave Castiel alone." His face was was red and his eyes were puffy.

Lucifer scoffed, and glared at Michael as he left the room. Michael stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Castiel began to cry as he ran to embrace Michael in a hug. Michael hissed from the sudden contact on the welts on his back and Castiel let go filled with guilt.

"Im sorry it... it's m-my fault you... you..." Castiel cried.

"Shhh," Michael smiled, "come here." Michael bent down and hugged the crying angel. Castiel hid his face in the crook of Michael's neck and dug his small hands into his tawny feathery wings in search for some form of comfort through this confusion.

"It's nobody's fault, Castiel. It was just a silly accident, and Mother..."

"Mother's gonna to sell me to the South." Castiel's words were muffled, but Michael heard him clearly.

"Look at me, Castiel." Michael ordered gently. He looked up to his older brother with tear-filled eyes. "Life it... it isn't fair, and it never will be, no matter how hard you try. But through it all, you have to be strong, and do what you believe is right. Got that?" Michael put his hand on Castiel's cheek with a loving touch.

"Yes," the little angel said, wiping away one of Michael's tears that escaped with him knowing, and it shocked the older boy a little.

"Everything I do is to protect you because I love you." The older angel kissed Castiel's forehead.

 

"I'm just trying to protect you, Clarence," A teenage female with long brown hair said to him as she secured a big scarf around Castiel's neck.

The scene had changed to his youth, the final days before being taken to Zachariah. They were both standing in a room of an abandoned house.

"I know Meg, but it's too warm!" Castiel complained, but let her continue what she was doing.

"Just be thankful that these collars don't have trackers yet, then we'd be in trouble. There." Meg gave him a look over, "How are your wings?"

"Reasonably snug." Castiel's wings were bound to his back, so that he appeared to be just any other human kid to anyone who saw him. He would be fine this way, unless his collar or wings were seen, or if he got too close to any angel, then his cover would be blown and back to the life of slavery he would go. Though, that would be the most desirable outcome, since the penalties for runaway angels are ones created from the darkest, sickest of men.

"Soon, we can finally go up North, and you can be free." Meg smiled. Castiel pulled her into a kiss that took her on surprise, but she returned it happily.

"I love you." Castiel said when their lips parted, young eyes shining with admiration.

"Hey, if you go saying things like that, I'll puke all over you." Meg shoved at him. “I love you too,” she admitted bashfully, giving him a small nudge.

"If only you could own me, then--"

"You know I don't support that at all. It's wrong, you don't just... _own_ people." Meg cut him off.

"I'm not exactly a pers--"

"Castiel, you are a person. Not human, yeah, but you're still a person, with a mind and feelings of his own," Meg kicked lightly at Castiel's foot, "And besides, I'm too young to own an angel anyway. We'll go up North, and we can live together there, as equals, and not have to worry about the law."

A moment passed before Castiel said, "No matter what you say or do, my heart will always belong to you."

"There you go again with the mushy stuff! You're gonna turn me soft, Clarence."

Castiel smiled, "You'll still be the scariest girl I've ever met, no matter how soft." Meg laughed at that and gave him a playful shove.

"Guys..." Came a voice from the other room, "the police are here."

"Shit!" Meg pushed Castiel back as she peeked out the window to investigate the claim, "Castiel, you have to leave _now_. They have an angel officer with them. He'll find you for sure."

"Zack, I told you to turn all the lights out!" Someone yelled.

"I thought I did!" The boy named Zack replied.

"Guys, we need to get Castiel out of here." Meg said as she grabbed Castiel's hand and ran out of the room.

"Crap, he can't go through the back; there's men surrounding the place."

Suddenly, the front door was kicked down, and all the kids scrambled in each direction.

"This is private property. You kids are trespassing. If you run, you _will_ be arrested." Called out a policeman.

Castiel and Meg ran and hid inside a closet on the second story.

"Meg, there's nowhere to hide. They're going to find me and I'll... I'll..." Castiel whimpered in a low whisper. More than anything, he didn't want to return to the life that was forced upon his kind. After having this certain freedom and falling in love, he just couldn't.

"I won't let them take you. I'll die if I have to." Meg whispered, placing a hand to his cheek.

"I'm not worth dying for. I'm just an angel."

"Not just an angel, _my_ angel." Meg cracked a small smile and gently kissed Castiel’s cheek..

They could hear the stomping of the police men's boots coming closer and closer. Holding onto each other tight, they held their breath, praying that the men would miraculously miss their hiding spot.

That prayer was crumpled and stepped upon by the ones with shiny badges and broken oaths. The man who found them grabbed them by the hair and tugged them out the room, down the stairs, and out the door with the rest of the children.

Castiel gulped and tried to back away when the alpha angel looked at him, interested, but he could go nowhere with the strong hold upon his shoulder when he tried to shy away.

"Captain," the angel spoke and walked into the light. A harsh chill ran down Castiel's spine when he recognized who the angel was. _Lucifer. Wh-what is he doing here? Did he get sold too?_ "it seems there's a little fallen angel amongst this rabble." Lucifer grabbed Castiel and tugged him in front of the crowd harshly, "An omega at that."

The officers gave a dark chuckle as Lucifer pulled the scarf from Castiel's neck, revealing that cursed collar.

"Where are you hiding your wings, slut? Did you cut them off? I hear they go for a very high price, especially the ones of an omega." One of the officers said.

"Oh no," Lucifer grinned, "they're right _here_." He squeezed at Castiel's bound wings and he let out a small cry of pain. Why was he doing this?

"Leave him alone!" Meg fought in the policeman's grasp.

The men laughed and the captain stepped forward, "It seems your charges are a lot more serious than we first believed," He looked at each kid in the line, "Much, _much_ , more serious."

Castiel didn't have a good feeling about where this was going, "Just leave them be, you got me already, let them go and I'll do whatever you want."

The captain scoffed, "You'd do whatever we wanted regardless, and you would enjoy _every_ second of it." His word were cold and threatening.

"L-Lucifer, please," Castiel tried begging to his brother.

“You know this angel, Luce?” asked the head officer.

“We’ve crossed paths,” he said vaguely and fondly ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair, just like he did when he was little. Then, he changed, chuckling then breathed down Castiel's collared neck, speaking softly so only Castiel could hear his words, "They're all gonna die because of you, little brother, and you're going to watch them all as they struggle to breathe their final breaths."

"No!" Castiel's heart was beating a mile a minute as he fought in Lucifer's death grip. The rest of the kid looked at the alpha in horror as the rest of the officers pulled their guns from their holsters. “ _Please no_ , don’t!” he begged. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucifer whispered in his ear. 

Castiel quickly looked up to his older brother. “Luc--”

"Hold the omega steady, Lucifer, and make sure he watches." The captain spoke, "That girl, make sure she's the last."

"Meg, nonononono! _Please_ , no!" Castiel struggled some more, getting as feisty as he could, but he only tired himself out. He was in no shape or form able to get out of the alpha's grip. “Don’t do this, plea--”

The guns clicked and fired at Castiel's friends, his family, and Lucifer held his head still by a fistfull of hair so he was forced to watch them all fall to the ground, their blood pooling and mixing around their dead bodies.

"No!" Castiel cried. Meg was the last one standing.

"I love you!" She shouted before the final shot rang through Castiel's ears.

...

Castiel shot up in his bed with a gasp. He rubbed at his sweaty face, trying to rid his mind of what his dreams had forced him to relive. He wanted to forget it all, the pain, the deceit, the lies, the dirtiness, the dreams, the love that was torn away from him, and overall, the guilt. It weighed on him so heavily of all the things that have happened because of him.

He clenched his fists. No matter what he tried, what he had done, he could never atone for what he's done.

"Dammit!" He punched a folded fist to the bed. Everyone who ever got close to him was hurt, or worse. These new owners... he couldn't let them get close. He would be the obedient, little broken shell of an omega that they wanted. That way, they both would be safe.

Castiel looked to the digital alarm clock on the beside table to see the time. In red, it read 5:48. He laid back down in the bed and pulled the covers over his shoulders. There was no use in trying to fall asleep again, which left him laying there with nothing but his troubling thoughts and past emotions.

He didn't know how long he was lying there motionless and lost in thought, but the sound of the door opening pulled him out of his trance. Light began to pour in as the door opened. Castiel sat up, squinting as he tried to see who had just entered. In the doorway was the silhouette of a man. The man turned on the light and stared at Castiel in shock.

He was tall, brown hair, and was finely dressed in a suit. After giving the man a look up and down, Castiel realized why he was here. The man looked younger than the majority he usually served.

With a calm expression, Castiel slipped out from under the covers and stood to his feet. The man looked at him with confusion written all over his face, but Castiel didn't worry. That would all be cleared up very soon.

Castiel swayed his hips as he turned his back to the stranger, dipping his wings in a submissive and seductive manner. The one was still wrapped with bandages, but they still held their captivating beauty. He shimmied as he slowly pulled his shirt from over his head.

His eyes met with the man's when he turned his head over his shoulder, retaining that focal contact as he slid his pants down, revealing his ass and the back of his legs.

The man looked completely shocked and visibly gulped. Castiel knelt down to slip the balled up pants from his ankles, raising his ass into the air so the man could have a good look at what he was offering. If anything, the stranger looked nervous. 

"Is this your first time?" Castiel asked him with his head cocked to the side.

"U-uh..." The man didn't know what to say, or think, it seemed.

"Don't worry," Castiel walked up to the man and played at the collar of his suit, "I'll make it easy for you. You won't have to do a thing." He began to loosen the tie from the young man’s neck.

"Y-you don't uh, have to--" Castiel put a finger to the man's lips and fluttered his eyelashes a bit, not allowing him to finish.

"It's much more enjoyable and less constricting naked. And I couldn't let you get your suit filthy." Castiel said seductively as he looked into the taller man's face.

The man laughed nervously, "U-Um that's not-- no I don't--" the man let out a gasp when Castiel grabbed at his crotch, which caught Castiel by surprise by how unexcited it was beneath the dress pants.

"Oh hey Sam what are you -- what the _hell?_ " Dean stared in shock at the two of them in their compromising position.

"Cas, the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Master, I-I--" he dropped his hand from the man's pants.

Dean cleared his throat, "Cover up, dude!" Castiel lowered his head and grabbed a blanket, tucking his wings against his back as he pulled it over his shoulders. What did he do wrong? Was that not why this man came into the room? Castiel was only doing what he was meant to do.

"Dean," the man, _Sam_ , Castiel could remember Dean saying, spoke, "why is he--" Sam motioned to Castiel. A sense of offense rose within him, and it took everything out of him not to glare at Sam. What did he mean by that?

"Okay, I guess I should introduce you guys," Dean started, "Cas, this is my _brother_ , Sam. Sam, this is Castiel, or 'Cas' as I like to call him." Realization hit Castiel, and he a ting of embarrassment. Although, being able to have that emotion would suggest he also had pride. Omegas didn't possess pride. Or at least, they weren't supposed to.

"Umm, hi Cas," Sam said nervously, "I-I was just coming in here to grab a book I forgot then I was gonna go to a meeting." Sam flashed him a small smile then grabbed the book he came in here for. How was Castiel supposed to know? Normally when a man he did not know walked into his room, it was for sex, or some twisted version of it.

"Did Jess not tell you?" Dean asked Sam.

"Tell me what, that you _own_ an angel now?" Sam motioned to Castiel again as he watched the exchange.

"No no it's -- well, I _guess_." Dean admitted.

"Heh, well how about that," Sam said with a raised eyebrow, "No, she was asleep by the time I got home last night. But _you_ , owning an _angel_?"

"Hey, the guy doesn't need to hear this right now," Dean led Sam out of the room and turned back to Castiel, "Sorry for bothering you, Cas. You can go back to sleep." Dean smiled and closed the door.

Castiel dropped the blanket to the ground and went to put his clothes back on.

"Yeah Sam, I bought him, okay? But it was be because they were going to kill them!" Castiel could hear Dean's voice rise from the other room. He flinched at the dreadful memory.

"And I'm not saying you did a bad deed, but do you know how much longer it'll take us now to go North?" Sam responded, voice of the same caliber.

"I'm well aware, but I'll figure it out! Sam, you didn't see him."

"Oh, I _saw_ him alright!"

"Not like _that_ , god." There was a pause. "He..." Dean's voice was quieter, and Castiel had to concentrate to listen, "he wasn’t in good shape. And you've seen the bandages and bruises, he was abused."

"Dean, angels are abused every single day here, and there's nothing we can really do about it. We can't just start taking in every abused angel we come across, much less take them up North!" Sam didn't sound too pleased, and it did Castiel's guilt no good.

"We might not be able to save every single one, I don't need you telling me that, but we can save this one."

 

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Okay, okay. I'm just worried, alright? An angel - especially one that's been screwed up by abusive assholes his whole life probably, is not like some impulse buy, Dean. He is going to take all your time, and commitment and effort and love and all that, if you intend to fix him or whatever."

Dean threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know, Sammy! You can't just-- I can't just-- he's not a leaky sink, he's a complex living thing that's fucked up seven ways to Sunday, and now he's _mine_ , which is a really weird concept that I don't like at all, but bottom line: this is my responsibility, I get it. And I _will_ figure it out, we're going to the North, and Castiel is coming with us, even if I have to sell a kidney to get that kind of money." Dean finished.

Sam nodded. "If it helps, I'm proud of you. From what happened in there-- I don't even know. It's gonna take a laser drill to break through that barrier and get down to the core. I'm no therapist, but I know an enigma when I see one. I'm just worried about you, and about him, and about all of us. Like, _shit_ Dean, are you gonna take him to work? Are you gonna leave him here, like that? I mean, anyone could walk in and he'd probably bend over for them without asking their name." Sam grimaced.

Dean winced. "No, Jess said she would chill with him. She's taking a few days off work, understandably, that Azazel guy is an ass. Look, Sammy I know--"

"I'm always with you, Dean. And so is Jess. Tell her I said I love her when she wakes up, okay?" He asked, heading for the door. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Get going Romeo, you'll be late for loser school!" He called at his brother's retreating back. He stood there in the living room for a while, strengthening his resolve, before heading back down the hall.

"Castiel?" He called, knocking on the door. The angel opened it immediately, eyes trained on the floor, thankfully now clothed.

"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, Master. I will never assume again." He said quickly.

Dean winced, "No, no, it's alright. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. Listen, I'm gonna head to work, and Jess will stay with you today. But first, we've gotta lay some ground rules, okay?" He said, rubbing the back of his neck. The angel looked up, nodding.

"Nobody is here to rape you, okay?” The angel cocked his head and squinted at Dean’s words. “This isn't a brothel or a pleasure house. You aren't here to please me, or work for me, or attend to my every need. I didn't buy you to own you, I bought you to save you. You are here to heal up, get better, and rest until we figure out a way to get North. How about you try not to think of us as Masters; more like roommates and care givers and whatever. But I'll be honest with you, in public, you're still going to have to act like a slave, but not in the house and around us, okay? " He explained.

The angel's eyes flashed with a flicker of something close to annoyance and mistrust, but as soon as it was there it was gone. "Of course Mas-- Dean. I…I believe I understand. Forgive me if I have a hard time adjusting." He said. His voice was purposefully sweet and calm, but it had an edge to it that spoke of defiance. Dean didn't know if he should be happy about that or not.

"Okay, uh, well I'll be going. See you later." He said turning to go.

"Dean, if you do not intend to have sex with me, what am I supposed to do when my heat comes?" Castiel asked suddenly.

"Oh, shit, I forgot about that…uh, how about I go buy some toys or whatever to hold you over, and when it comes, I'll go stay at Sam's? How does that sound?" Dean offered awkwardly. Castiel seemed apprehensive at the idea, but he just nodded.

Dean hurried out of that conversation and out the door, longing to get away from the awkwardness and eggshells that filled his apartment now.

\---

Dean opened up the shop and turned on all the lights, getting the place up and running, before he made a beeline for the fridge.

Benny came through the door with crates of food packages from the diner down the street, setting them down on the table. He glanced at the beer in Dean's hand, then at the empty one in the sink. "What's got you on a bender this early, brother?" He asked, filling up the coffee pot.

Dean sighed, leaning against the counter. "I may…have bought an angel. An omega." Dean admitted, taking a swig.

Benny froze, staring at him. "What? But you hate slavery as much as I do, I thought--"

Dean shook his head, "I didn't buy him for that, Ben! They were gonna euthanize him, like some stray dog, just 'cause he don't always do whatever they want or whatever. I couldn't just let him _die_ , especially like that. But now it's gonna be ten times more expensive to get up North, and I've got a brainwashed angel who's all kinds of screwed up, at least, I think he is, I honestly can't tell what's going on in his head. One minute he's glaring at me, the next he's groveling at my feet begging to serve me; he practically jumped on Sam's dick this morning before Sam even realized what the hell he was doing. I… I really see something in him, under all that, something worth saving, but I don't know if I'm cut out for it." Dean sighed, downed the rest of his beer and headed for the door to the basement, "Come on, let's let the guys out and dig into that breakfast--" He was cut off by Benny catching his arm.

"It's gonna be hard my friend, but if anyone can do it, you can. You've got the purest heart of anyone I know." He whispered, with those faith filled eyes that gave Dean goosebumps. He nodded, not able to form words to accommodate that, and turned to unlock the door.

"Come on up, guys, breakfast is waiting!" He called. The angels his father owned filed up the stairs excitedly. All alphas, strong and well built. Good guys, the lot of them. They didn't deserve to spend all their non-working hours in a basement, but there were worse ways to live in the South.

The angels all swarmed at the crates of food, passing out their usual orders. His father didn't really come around the shop anymore, he spent time at home with his mother. He still owned it, but the most he did was take a few angels and head to the surrounding towns to help out during emergencies that needed labor. Back in the early days, Bobby and John worked the shop together. Some years after Bobby left to go up North, his father had just… begun to appreciate the quiet life. Which suited Dean fine; Dorothy handled paperwork and calls to go fix broken down cars on the road, and he, Benny, and the angels worked in the shop.

Under his father's reign, the angels hadn't been treated _horribly_ , but not overly well either. His father treated angels like objects, like tools. He kept his tools in good shape, but he didn't treat them like people. Dean, however, couldn't help but treat them as such. They were friends, co-workers. Sometimes he forgot he could do anything he wanted to them, that they were essentially tools, at least, in the eyes of the law. He wished he could take them all North, but he couldn't see how. That many angels would cost a fortune.

He took his own food and they all sat down, digging in as the sun filtered in the window. Michael, the kinder, ring leader of the alphas amongst their little group and Dean's personal assistant, sat next to him. 

His smile faltered, his he leaned closer to Dean, sniffing. "Dean, why on earth do you reek of omega angel?" He asked, brow furrowed. All the angels froze, looking over and sniffing. 

Dean shuffled in his seat. "Because I bought one." He deadpanned.

Tension immediately filled the room, and a silent conversation seemed to run through the room among the angels.

Michael looked him straight in the eye. "I was under the impression you were a better man than that," he said coldly. Sometimes, Michael scared him. But for the right reasons.

Dean returned his stare. "I am. I bought him, so he wouldn't be killed for fighting back against his masters. They were going to _put him down_ , like an animal. Would you rather have me let him die like that?" He said, then took another bite of his food.

Michael searched his gaze, before relaxing. "That was very good of you, sir. So you do not intend to rape him?"

Dean choked on his scrambled eggs, "No, god no! He sure seems confused about it though, like he thinks I'm just playing mind games to take him off guard. It's a real fucked up world we live in, ain't it?" Dean sighed.

Michael nodded, a darkness clouding his eyes. "Yes, yes it is. The South is an Empire built on the blood of angels. That is a comfort to me." He said, chewing on his bacon. There were glances exchanged at his words.

"What do you mean?" Benny asked.

Michael's eyes snapped up, hard and distant. "Empires fall faster than an angel with clipped wings, if my history is right."

\---

Right after Dean had left for the day, Castiel sat on the edge of his bed, unsure of what he should be doing. Dean had not instructed anything, and Castiel was still very confused where his place was with these humans. He was allowed to call them by their first names, was given his own room with a nice bed, but what else? Was there anything else besides this? His wings fidgeted as he stared at the walls of his room anxiously. Castiel had no idea what they wanted from him. Was this all he was supposed to do, just exist? Was he to sit here, kneel on the floor, wait for Dean to return in the corner of the room? Castiel had no idea what they wanted from him.

“Castiel?” he could hear his name being called from another room of the apartment. Castiel quickly got up from the bed and left his room to find the source of the voice, Jess. 

“Yes?” Castiel asked her tentatively.

“How was your sleep?” Jess asked him with a smile. She was no longer in the scrubs that she wore yesterday, instead, she was wears a nice pair of jeans and a comfy shirt. She must not have had to work today, Castiel supposed. 

“It was well, thank you.” Nightmares plagued him almost every night, but he had been granted a comfortable and warm bed to sleep in. That considered, it was quite well.

“Since Dean’s going to be gone for most of the day, I thought I’d spend it with you, maybe we could go and buy you some of your own clothes. How does that sound?” 

“Whatever you desire, I will abide happily, Jess.” Castiel said as he dipped his head politely. In truth, he would like to have his own clothes, not that he wasn’t thankful for what he had. The clothes hung loosely to his smaller, battered frame, but he was glad that he was at least covered. 

“Alright, well, have you eaten anything yet?” She asked.

Castiel wasn’t sure what the correct answer to that was. He ate last night, so yes, he had. Did she mean breakfast? Because if that were the case, no, he hasn’t.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jess assumed by his lack of reply. “I’ll find you something.”

“N-no, you don’t have to,” Castiel was quick to say, “I don’t want to burden you any further.”

“What? No, you’re not a burden, Castiel.” Jess reassured. He didn’t agree, but he made no efforts in correcting her. Jess turned and started towards Dean’s fridge, pulling out a bag of sliced bread. Castiel watched silently as she put two slices into a toaster. “It’ll only be a moment, you can sit at the table for now.” 

Castiel glanced over to the table for a few moments before walking towards it, hesitantly pulling out a chair and sitting down. She was going to let him eat at their table, a place that many owners would never let their angels sit. Jess’s small act of kindness towards him did not go unnoted, with seemingly giving him equal status to herself and making him some toast for breakfast. 

“Here you go,” Jess placed a plateful of toast and a glass of water in front of him, “you eat as much of this as you want. I’ll be right back, okay? You see that door over there,” she motioned towards a door across the room, “that’s me and my boyfriend’s apartment. I’m going to go a get a few things before we go, alright?”

“I understand, Jess. And… thank you.” He looked up at her, and gave her the closest thing to a smile that he could do. 

“You’re welcome,” She replied warmly. “Now, I’ll be right back.” Jess went towards the door, giving Castiel one last look before walking through and closing it shut. 

_”Do you really think this kindness will last?”_ the voice asked.

Castiel cast his eyes down to the food in front of him. He wanted to wish that it really would last, but he was smarter than to do that. The shoe would drop, that he was sure of, and when it did, he would be ready. He wasn’t an ignorant child anymore; the time that he was, was now nothing but a blur amongst the horrors his memory held. 

He would still continue on being just as he should, submissive and obedient. Maybe… as long as he didn’t mess up, they’d continue to be kind to him. He knew that that was a dangerous thought, but he would make sure he didn’t hold it too closely, so that when their facade would finally fall, he wouldn’t be hurt. 

With enthusiasm, Castiel began to eat the food in front of him. The toast was lathered in butter, with cinnamon sprinkles on top. By the time Jess returned, Castiel had finished eating.

“All set to go?” Jess asked. 

“I am ready when you are.” Castiel replied. He tried to give her a look of ease, but god, was he nervous.

\---

Dean, Benny, and the angels worked on three cars and a pickup truck before lunch came around. Dean sent Inias to get some Subway down the street.

Alphas and even Betas could be out in public and not be bothered, but if an omega was left alone too long in public, bad things tended to happen, and the law turned a blind eye.

Dean was washing his hands when he spotted Michael staring out the window, lost in thought,  
"What's up, buddy?" Dean asked, bringing him a beer.

He took it and popped the cap effortlessly. "Just remembering.” He took a sip. “Did I ever tell you I was born in the North?" He said, taking another.

"I think you've mentioned it, yeah. Did slavers drag you down here illegally?" He asked.

Michael shook his head. "No, I came down here by my own will."

Dean choked on his beer, "What, why?" He exclaimed, after wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"My mother sold some of my siblings down here, one of them being my younger omega brother. I loved all my siblings but… he was my favorite.” Michael paused a moment, face softening at the thought of him. “I promised them I'd come get them back, but I was enslaved before I could carry out my promise. He's probably dead or worse, it's been years. I just…..wish I knew, you know? It's hard just wondering." Michael shrugged.

"Yeah, I can imagine. I'm really sorry. About everything."

Michael smiled wistfully. "You have been better to us than many would down here, Dean Winchester. You cannot control the government's injustice, nor the injustice of greedy mothers and men. Take care of that omega of yours; it drives me crazy, thinking what is probably happening to my brother right at this moment. The omegas receive the worst injustice in this whole place, you know. It is one thing to be treated like no better than a vacuum or a hammer, but it is another to be used in the ways I have heard of. Did you know that some pleasure houses allow their client to kill the omega and then have intercourse with their dying body?" Michael shook his head, and Dean gagged. “And that - that’s not ever the worst of it.” He took a swig of beer.

"Hey, Dean, where's my brother?" Dorothy called.

"Hell if I know. Check the bathroom!" Dean called. Dorothy walked straight into the mens‘ bathroom, and dragged Benny out practically by the ear.

"You never put the highjack back in the same spot, it's not my job to clean up after you!" She said.

"Aren't _I_ supposed to be the big brother?" He grumbled, following her into the garage.

\---  
Castiel stared at everything wide-eyed as he looked out the window of Jess’s small car. Anxiously, his left hand played at the o-ring on his collar and his right stroked the light golden feathers of his left wing. 

“A family friend owns the clothing store.” Castiel looked over to Jess as she spoke. “They’re actually pretty well-known for their large selection of everyday to formal wear. They have everything. And,” she looked over to Castiel, “it’s a very angel-friendly place.” 

He figured that she was attempting to ease his ever-building worry. It worked a bit, he supposed, but when the farthest outside you’ve ever been in about a decade has been chained in a small fenced-in yard during freezing cold evenings, any small venture to places that many deem ‘normal and uneventful’ was a big, scary adventure for him. Part of it was the not knowing, going to places unfamiliar to him and allowing life to do as it wants to him. There were also people. How many would be there? _What will happen?_

A few stop lights later, they pulled into a parking lot of the store. It was much bigger than Castiel had originally imagined, and couldn’t help but gape at it for a few moments. 

“Here we are,” Jess announced as she shut off the ignition.“You ready?” 

Castiel nodded after a hesitant second. Jess smiled, and then the both of them headed towards the store. A warm, sweet breeze brushes against Castiel’s skin, whispering ‘freedom’ each time it rustled the leaves on the trees. Birds flew free from restraint across the bright blue sky, and how Castiel longed to join them in their flight that seemed almost ceremonial.

He was startled back to reality when the automatic doors opened to their arrival. At the first sight of the store’s interior, Castiel froze in shock. There was so _so much_. Racks and shelves were strategically placed with clothing sorted neatly from size, to type, to gender. Jess gave him a moment to accustom to this new environment and examine everything, though, a chipper voice was soon to disrupt them.

“Oh Jess, hey!” Castiel’s head quickly turned to find a red-headed middle aged woman coming there way. He took a step closer to Jess and watched the lady closely. 

“Hey, Mrs. Emerson.” Jess greeted. 

“I’m so glad to see you! How are you doing?” She asked the question, but she didn’t give Jess enough time to reply. “Oh! This must be the angel you got. Hello, sweetie, what’s your name?” 

“Castiel.” he quickly replied. “M-Ma’am.” 

“What a lovely name!” she said after taking a moment to evaluate him. “Come with me, I’ll help you a Jess find some nice things for yourself!” 

As she walked off down one of the aisles, Castiel let out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I know, she’s a little overbearing.” Jess said with a grin. _I guess that’s the word for it,_ Castiel thought. “She means well though.” Castiel nodded, and followed close behind Jess as they walked down the aisles of clothes. The further they got, Castiel soon realised that this store carried more than just clothing, as Jess had first made him think. There were also products like shampoo, soaps, brushes, and probably even more could be found if they went down that aisle. 

“Here, we’ll start with some shirts. Are you looking for anything in particular, or just something nice for everyday use?” Mrs. Emerson asked. Castiel was unsure if she was addressing to him or Jess, as she kept looking at one of them to the other. 

“Just for everyday.” Jess pondered for a moment. “Maybe one thing formal casual.” 

“Splendid!” The older lady exclaimed, and started to go through a rack of t-shirts. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said to Castiel, “I’ll find you exactly what you need!” Castiel just nodded slightly in response, finding it difficult to keep up with her overwhelming personality. 

She searched a bit before pulling a shirt off a shelf. “How do you like this?” 

“U-uh…” Castiel stuttered. She was wanting his opinion? Was he allowed to give one? Castiel looked at Jess for an answer. He didn’t want to answer incorrectly. 

“I think it would look good on you, Cas.” Jess said with a short nod. “We’ll get it.” Mrs. Emerson grinned and handed her the article of clothing, and castiel let out a small sigh of relief.

As Mrs. Emerson would pick through the rest of the clothing, she’d pull out things and examine them and Castiel, glancing back and forth a few times, before muttering something to herself and putting them in Jess’s arms. This went on until his mistress’s arms were heaping with seven shirts, three pairs of pants, a sweater, some sleepwear and undergarments. 

Walking to another area or the large store, the elderly lady helped Jess choose what soaps and such were good for him. Castiel was glad she was there to help them, because if she wasn’t, he was unsure as to what he would do. There were so many different products that he had no idea existed, and wouldn’t even know where to begin to choose one. Back at the brothel, he just used what he were given without much of a second thought.

When her arms could carry no more, they all headed towards the till. The cashier was a smiley young woman, looking to be just out of her teens. Why were these people so happy? 

“Oh, good morning Jess!” She greeted with a wide grin as Jess put the pile of things in her arms onto the till. Castiel tensed when she looked to him and somehow managed to grin even wider. It looked like it hurt. “So, this is the angel you bought!”

“His name’s Castiel.” Mrs. Emerson said just as Jess was about to speak. 

“Hi Castiel!” The young woman chimed, the volume and excitement of her voice a bit too much for Castiel. These human’s over-happy emotions were beginning to make him feel very uncomfortable and overwhelmed. He wanted out of there now. 

He let out a small whimper in response and felt himself shrink back and closer to Jess, tempted to grasp the hem of her shirt and hold on tight. All of their eyes were on him, looking at him as if he were their prey. 

“Not much of a talker, huh?” The girl went on, too blinded by her rays of happiness and sunshine to see Castiel’s extreme discomfort. “That’s okay! I’ll just ring this stuff up for you guys.” 

“U-uh yeah, we’d appreciate that, Ann.” Jess gave her a small nod and took out her credit card, awaiting to pay. With Ann’s attention now focusing on the items she was scanning, Castiel felt as if he could finally breathe. _A few more minutes,_ he continued to remind himself as the urge to flee continued to itch underneath his skin. Though these people showed no violent intent, they made him feel just as on edge if they did. This amount of extreme joy seemed unnatural and rather offsetting. 

Everything ended up costing a great sum of money, and Castiel felt guilty that Jess was willing to waste all of that money on him. He kept quiet though, watching as she punched in her pin and received the receipt. 

“Have a nice day guys!” Ann exclaimed as she handed them the shopping bags. 

“If you need anything else, come back anytime!” Mrs. Emerson said as she waved them off. 

“Thank you.” Jess spoke to them just before they walked out the automatic doors. When they stepped outside and the doors closed behind them, Castiel let out a big sigh of relief. 

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, they’re a bit… much.” 

“They certainly are,” Castiel muttered to himself, though Jess must have heard as she began to laugh. He felt alarmed at first, as he had just spoken poorly of the humans Jess was acquainted with, but her face showed ease and amusement.

Jess popped the trunk and they loaded the back with the bags. “They mean well, they just get a bit too excited when it comes to their job.” Castiel nodded in agreement, and got into the passenger seat of the car after Jess unlocked it. 

With key in the ignition and radio on, the made their way back to the apartment. 

“Thank you, Jess,” he cleared his throat and looked up at her shyly, “for everything.”

Jess looked over and met his eyes with such warmth. “You’re very welcome, Cas.”

“You… you didn’t have to do what you did, back at the clinic and everything afterwards but, you did.” Castiel licked his lips before asking, “why?”

“Why?”

“I-I mean, you could have let me be put down, but you fought your superiors and then Dean bought me and--” _and you’ve been so nice to me,_ “...why?” There had to be some twisted motive behind all this, and it bothered Castiel that he couldn’t quite place what it could be. 

“I’ve seen a lot of horrible things working there, but what they were doing to do to you, that was the worst, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I let that happen. But it wasn’t only that it was - downright _wrong_.” Jess shook her head. “I couldn’t let them do that to you.” 

“But I’ve disobeyed orders on more than on one account and I acted out against a better, so I deserv--”

“No, don’t say that.” Jess interrupted. “What they intended to do to you, it was absolutely monstrous. You didn’t do anything wrong to deserve how you’ve been treated, let alone be _killed_.” They were stopped at a red light, and Jess took this opportunity to turn to the angel. “What you do deserve is better, much better than how you’ve ever been treated.” As the light turned green, she gave him a gentle smile and continued to move with the flow of traffic. 

Castiel didn’t believe her words, but they worked their way past the walls of pain and wariness that built themselves high and strong over the years, sparking that small bit of hope that he still had. Maybe… this human was good. He couldn’t risk trusting her right away but, he didn’t think he was wrong that he did sense some form of _good_. 

The omega slowly began to relax, the sound of Jess humming along with the music on the radio becoming something soothing. For the rest of the drive, Castiel looked out the window and enjoyed the moment, knowing that this peace was a temporary blessing. 

_”It will not last.”_

\---

A few hours later, it was closing time at the shop. The angels headed downstairs with their dinners and Benny offered to lock up, since Dean had an… extra stop to get to before he got home.

It had been a while since he'd been in a sex shop. Same tacky music, tacky wallpaper, crappy carpet and disturbing little puns on the clearance signs.

He caroused around as fast he could, finally picking out a few items and buying them, and hurried out to the car as fast as he could, praying no one he knew would see him.

His apartment was empty when he got there, so he set the bag of special items on Castiel's bed and headed through the door that joined their two apartments.

Jess and Sam's apartment was the same shape, but differently styled. Brighter wallpaper, suede couches instead of leather, a love seat instead of an armchair, and a lot cleaner. Although, Dean had the nice TV. Always a point of pride.

 

Castiel was sitting in the kitchen with Jess, playing some sort of card game.

"Go fish," Castiel said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

" _Again?_ " Jess sighed as she grabbed yet another card to add to her handful. Castiel heard a chuckle coming from behind him, and turned to find the source, automatically tensing up.

"Hey Dean," Jess said, glancing up from her set of cards.

Dean smiled at them warmly, "I see Cas is beating your ass." Castiel frowned at that. He was not beating her ass. Jess was a good woman, he wouldn't do such a degrading thing to her. He didn't even think he could ever do that to anyone.

Jess groaned. "This guy hasn't given me a break! It's like luck is pouring from his wings." She was wrong; luck did not pour out of his wings. In fact, nothing about him was lucky. He's just been getting all the good cards and calling the right ones three games in a row.

Perhaps Jess was getting angry at him already. It wasn't right or proper for him to be winning like this.

_”Foolish, foolish Castiel.”_

He dropped his head, "I'm sorry,"

"Hey," Jess said, voice soft and caring, "why are you sorry?"

"I-I," he looked at the stack of cards he'd taken from Jess, "I keep winning, I'm sorry, I should know my place and--"

"Castiel, there is nothing for you to be sorry about," Jess brought his face up to look at hers with a gentle hand, "And this is just a game, it's supposed to be fun. Winning and losing's all a part of that fun."

"You're not... mad at me?" Castiel asked.

"Course not! Now, it's your turn."

Castiel looked up at Dean, as if he were searching his face for permission to continue to play. The man nodded his head towards the table, anticipating Castiel's next call.

Castiel looked to his hand of cards and said, "Do you have any fives?"

"What do you think?" Jess took a card from her hands and slid it across the table to him. He still felt a bit bad about taking cards from her, even though they both looked perfectly happy.

"Go Cas!" Dean cheered, which brought a faint blush to Castiel's cheeks. Their positive attitudes towards him was still something he was struggling to adjust to.

 _"Don't let their kindness trick you."_ The voice said in Castiel's head, and whatever signs of happiness he may have had left his face. He couldn't let himself warm to their kindness. It would be easier this way, staying distant. A part of him even wished they'd just treat him the way he deserved.

He looked down and tugged a bit at the sleeve of his new shirt. Its material was very comfortable, and the shirt itself was far more nicer than anything Castiel had worn in years. He felt guilty for indulging in it, with knowing the final cost of everything in the end, and for putting Jess through the trouble of going out of her way to do such a thing for a slave. 

Noticing Castiel's change in attitude, Jess asked, "Would you like to do something else now? Maybe... watch tv?"

Castiel looked to her, "If it pleases you, Jess." Jess frowned a bit at his response, but nodded and led him to sit on the couch.

The apartment room was much like Dean's in layout, but it was much cleaner and had a woman's touch to it. He couldn't fight the feeling that this new place gave him, safety. He still felt a bit unsure about Dean but Jess... she was so kind, gentle, and considerate towards him. He didn't deserve it, but it was nice.

"Have any shows that you like, Cas?" Dean asked as they sat down on the couch.

"I've never watched much television before. You may put on whatever you wish." Castiel stared as the tv was turned on. Truthfully, he really enjoyed animal documentaries and cartoon movies, but all he wanted was Dean to be happy and let him watch what he wanted. What Castiel wanted didn't matter, anyway. It never did.

"Here, Dean, hand me the remote." Jess extended her hand and received the device from Dean. She flipped through the channels quickly until it landed on a program with African animals.

Jess placed the remote by Castiel, "You can watch this, or change the channel if you want. Dean," she addressed, "come to the kitchen with me." Dean got up from the couch and the both walked around the corner to the other room.

"How's he been for you?" Castiel heard Dean ask. Castiel considered turned the program up louder, but his curiosity overcame his better judgement and decided to listen in on the humans.

"He's been alright, considering. I took him shopping, clung to my side the whole time the Emersons harassed him," he could hear Jess let out a small chuckle, "but we got through it. We got him some clothes, so you won't have to worry about that."

"Good," Dean said. Castiel looked down to his new clothes and withheld a sigh. If he was such a burden to clothe, they could just have him walk around as naked as the day he was born, it wasn't like he hadn't done that before. But then he remembered Dean, and his reaction to seeing his body. He seemed repulsed by it, always turning away, telling him to cover it up. Maybe he truly wasn't into beings with male genitalia, and truly wasn't intent on fucking him. Or, his beaten body was too much to look at. It was Castiel's own fault he was marked and marred. If only he had been good...

"We got back, ate, played games," Jess continued, "and I think he was peaking out of his shell but--"

"But then I came and he went all robot on you?" Dean cut in.

"Yeah," Jess said hesitantly, "You can't really blame him, I mean, he's been abused by men all his life for as much as we know, so he's going to be wary of you, no matter how much you tell him he's safe. He'll come around."

"Yeah, I hope so." Dean sounded a bit unhopeful.

So, Dean didn't like him. How should he be around him then? He could be anything, if that's what Dean wanted. He'd have to ask him later.

"I'm home!" Castiel turned his head to find Sam coming through the door. Sam stopped for a second when he spotted Castiel sitting on his couch and stood there awkwardly as they held eye contact, but then broke it and rid of his shoes, making his way to join Dean and Jess.

"Welcome back," Jess embraced Sam and gave him a kiss, "I hear you and Castiel have already met."

Sam cleared his throat, "Y-yeah, we did." Castiel could see Dean wiggling his eyebrows at his brother, whom only shook his head.

"Cas," Castiel became alert at the sound of Dean's voice, "let's get out of their hair, c'mon." He got up from the couch and followed Dean to the door that conjoined the two apartments.

"Bye, Cas! See you tomorrow," Jess waved as he walked into Dean's apartment.

"Here, I... have something for you," Castiel eyes Dean warily, but continued to follow his master to Castiel's room.

On his bed was a bag, and by the look of the bag, it's contents probably were--

"I got you some... _things_... for your heat," Dean scratched his head.

 _"Thank you for considering my needs, but these won't be any good."_ is what Castiel wanted to say, but instead he simply said, "Thank you." There was no need to correct Dean when he already did all this for him.

"No problem. If you need anything else, you can just tell me, anything at all." Dean turned to leave, but was stopped by Castiel grabbed his arm.

"Dean I--" Castiel dropped his hand and bowed his head, and mentally scolding himself for his rash move, "what do you want from me if -- if you don't want _me_?" He looked into Dean's eyes.

"I don't want anything from you I just -- I want you to be happy, free. Well I mean, as free as an angel can be down here. Just... be yourself. You're safe here, y’know." Dean grinned.

 _Be... myself?_ He didn't know what 'myself' was. Castiel cocked his head, contemplating what that meant.

Dean smirked and said, "You don't have to figure that all out right away. Hey, I'm gonna go for a shower. You can read a book or... something." He swung the door open quietly and left Castiel, confused as to what he should do now. 

The angel looked around the room, taking the time to examine it. Books were littered on top of the dresser and stacked in an unorganized pile beside it. Castiel assumed that they must belong to Sam, though he didn’t understand why Dean would have them in that case. He crouched down and began to go through the pile beside the dresser. By the state of some of the books, he assumed that they must have belonged to both Sam and Dean when they were children. Castiel held onto one with a cover that sparked his interest and walked over to his bed. He sank into the soft mattress, shifting a bit until he found a comfortable position on his stomach and opened the book, slowly beginning to read. 

A few minutes passed before he was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Castiel, may I come in?” Jess asked from the other side of the door. 

Castiel shut the book and hastily placed it back on the pile. “Yes.” He replied quickly as he tried to recover from a sudden headrush. 

“May I take a look at your wounds there?” She asked, medical kit in hand. Castiel nodded, watching as Jess placed the kit on the bed and began to take a few things out of it. “Can you take off your shirt for me?” He nodded again and began to work at the buttons on his shirt, right below his wings. When they were all undone, he pulled the shirt over his head and carefully worked his wings out, giving them a little shake. 

“How are you feeling?” Jess asked as she grabbed the last few things from the kit. 

“I feel fine.”

Jess gave him a look. “You can be honest with me.”

Castiel ducked his head and said softly, “I’m a little sore, but it’s nothing that time won’t heal.” 

“Do you want anything for the pain? I probably have something in here you could take--”

“No.” Castiel interrupted urgently. “N-no i-it’s, it’s fine, thank you.” 

“Alright then,” Jess looked at him curiously for a moment before gently unwrapping the bandage around Castiel’s neck. “Hold your collar up for me?” she requested. Castiel was quick to comply, lifting the worn collar around his neck just enough for Jess to unwrap the rest of the injuries encircling his neck. She dabbed the cuts with some sort of ointment, each touch a slight burning sensation. 

He kept silent as she finished up with his neck, wrapping it back up again with a fresh bandage. Jess then moved onto the wounds across his abdomen, his back, and the few that covered his arms. Castiel followed the movement of Jess’s hands with his eyes, watching as they set to mend his tattered body. He didn’t understand why should put so much effort into it all. It really didn’t matter, and it wasn’t as if a few more scars would change anything. A little healing won’t change the fact that he’s a damaged slave. 

“How’s that feel?” Jess asked just as she put a final bandage in place. 

“Good. Thank you, Jess.” Castiel gave her a nod of gratitude. He extended his wing, the only part of him that had still gone untouched in the replacing of bandages. 

“May I see that?” Jess asked, referring to his wing. He nodded and sucked in a breath as she began to examine his wing. She muttered a small “sorry” and continued, flexing his wing out and in, wincing from the fair amount of pain his wing emitted. Even though there was pain, it felt nice to stretch it out anyway. “You okay with me wrapping it back up? It’ll get better faster that way, and keep it from getting jarred.” 

“You may.” He replied simply, slowly folding his wing back up and letting Jess wrap it back up. 

“There, you’re all set!” Jess grinned. “I’m going to head off to bed right away, do you need anything else?” 

“No thank you, I am fine, Jess.” Castiel bowed politely. “Thank you for taking care of me.” _Even though I am am not worthy of your kindness,_ he considers adding, but decides against it. He knew well enough that Jess would only scold him for saying such things, so he kept it to himself. 

“You’re very welcome, Cas. Have a good sleep. Night,” She bade softly as she closed the door behind her. 

“Night,” Castiel said back just as she left. He made his way to the dresser and opened the drawer containing his pajamas. One side of the drawer held his shirts, while the other held his pants, all folded to his liking. He pulled out the ones folded on top, a light blue t-shirt and, much to his joy, very soft pajama pants that were covered with a pattern of little kittens. The shirt was put on with little struggle, only a small resistance causing by all the wrappings. A tiny smile graced his face when it came to the pants, finding the softness of them against his smooth legs soothing as he put one leg in at a time. 

A small glow of happiness bubbled within his chest as he stared down at _his_ clothing, nobody else’s, but _his_. Better yet, the pants were very cute, and oh so soft. 

Stifling a yawn, he realised how tired he truly was. As he went to the lightswitch, he stopped and listened to the noises beyond his bedroom door. He could hear the muffled sounds of the television and Dean’s soft laughter. 

Castiel had to use the toilet and brush his teeth before bed but, he wasn’t exactly sure if he was allowed to leave him room or not. Dean hadn’t exactly told him to _stay_ in his room until he said otherwise, so it would be okay to visit the bathroom shortly? 

He reached for the doorknob, but pulled his hand away just before he touched it. What if this would be the incident that changes the way he is treated?

 _”Test your boundaries,”_ the voice said. _”If your master becomes angry with you, you can always make it up to him.”_

_That is true,_ Castiel thought. With one more moment of hesitancy, he slowly turned the knob and pulled the door open, hoping not to bring Dean’s attention to himself. Thankfully, Dean was still watching tv, not seeming to notice Castiel creeping about. 

“Oh, hey Cas.” Castiel turned at the sound of Dean’s voice. “Did you need something?” 

“U-uh I--” he began to panic, “I was just - I w-wanted to use the bathroom, Master.” Castiel caught his error when Dean looked at him with a raised brow and inwardly began to curse. “I-if th-that’s alright w-with you, of course.” he added quickly.

“Yeah, go for it, man.” Dean nodded, still looking at him weirdly. “You’re free to use the bathroom whenever you need to, you don’t have to ask.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel gave him a small bow out of gratitude and walked the few more steps he had to get to the bathroom, gently closing the door behind himself. 

“Idiot,” he muttered to his hideous reflection in the mirror. He shook his head in distaste, and grabbed his new toothbrush. Castiel didn’t miss the look that Dean gave him, how it expressed just how clueless the angel must really be. It frustrated him _immensely_. He’s been trying so hard to be at his best, to do exactly as his masters pleased but he can’t get anything right!

“Fuck.” He growled at himself as he looked at the mess he had created. In his right hand was a well-squeezed tube of toothpaste, its contents covering the counter, the floor, and his new favorite pajama pants. It took everything in him not to throw toothpaste container against the wall. 

_You need to calm down,_ he told himself. Castiel exhaled heavily and took and sat down on those closed toilet seat lid. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs and his head in his palms. He began to time his breathing, one long breath after another. The past forty-eight hours had been stressful, to say the least. 

As his heart began to beat at a normal pace, he glanced around at his mess in the bathroom once more, thinking over his situation. Castiel thought he had somehow rid of this anger that would seemingly erupt out of nowhere with the final decision of being the omega he was truly meant to be. He just felt so confused. These humans seem to want him to be something he was not, equal and of free will, and not just a warm body to fuck and do with as desired. And if this was so, he hadn’t a clue how to be as such, not to mention how to achieve this supposed “freedom” that they kept dangling in front of him. 

Again, a lot had happened in the past few days. It was probably time he got some sleep. 

He arose from the toilet seat and began to clean his mess, making sure not to leave anything behind, and he might have gotten a bit carried away and cleaned more of the bathroom than needed, as he soon found how much dust had gathered on the floor behind things and upon the sink counter. 

Castiel ended up being in the bathroom much longer than he had originally intended and now had damp patches on his pajamas. Lovely. He hoped that none of what just happened would anger Dean, even though it was his fault and any punishment he received would be well deserved. 

He left the bathroom just as quietly as he came, and found that Dean was still in the same spot on the couch that the angel had seen him last. 

“You going to bed?” Dean asked. 

Castiel stilled and turned to Dean. “I was going to, yes. Is there anything you require of me, Dean?” 

Dean shook his head. “Nah, that’s fine, Cas. Have a good sleep.” 

“Thank you.” Castiel bowed his head. “I hope you have the same.” Dean smiled at him and turned back to the tv. Taking that as a sign of dismissal, Castiel returned to his bedroom. He turned off the lights and retreated to his bed, curling up under the sheets and snuggling his many pillows. Closing his eyes, he vainly wished for a good night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're loving the kudos and comments! Keep it coming!


	3. In Which Sentiment Sucks Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a science to fear  
> It plagues my mind  
> And it keeps us right here  
> And it keeps us here  
> \- The Temper Trap 'Science Of Fear'

An alarm sounded the beginning of a new day, and Dean blindly hit the objects upon his nightstand to stop the racket. The man finally began to open his eyes after taking a few minutes to wake up. With a yawn, he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and walked over to a messy pile of clothes that were scattered across his bedroom floor. He grabbed a random t-shirt and took a whiff of it, finding that it didn’t reek too bad. _Good enough._

He lazily got dressed for the day, taking a few moments in between to stretch and rub the sleep from his eyes. Dean couldn’t wait for his morning coffee, god he needed it. He had stayed up much too late watching tv, but what else were you supposed to do when a Doctor Sexy marathon of all the best episodes was airing? Box sets of every season up to date might have been safely stored within his closet, but that didn’t lessen the thrill of watching random back-to-back episodes provided by a well-known tv station. Needless to say, the show was definitely one of his biggest guilty pleasures, and it had kept him up late on endless nights. 

As he slipped on his socks, he thought about what he had to complete throughout the day. He had the day off, he remembered with a scowl. He _totally_ could have slept in. _Oh well,_ he thought bitterly. He was already awake, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep after already putting so much effort into waking up. 

Dean took one more glance around his room, feeling like he was forgetting something. He stood there for a few moments as he tried to remember. _What was it…?_ It kept nagging at the back of his mind, whatever it was. Did he have something he _was_ supposed to do today? I mean, it definitely wouldn’t hurt to do some laundry, but that wasn’t it. No, it was something else… 

The memories of the past couple days came flooding back, the realisation of it all feeling like a punch to the gut. _I own an angel. I own a fucking_ person _! Christ…_ Dean ran a hand over his face. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact, that he, Dean Winchester, owned an angel, an _omega_ angel. Never had he thought something like that would ever happen, ever. But here he was, in possession of a living being with a heart, soul, and spirit, just like he did. The only thing that set them apart was their slight difference in biology and how they came to be on Earth; actually, he didn’t know the exact origin of the angels, only that they were “sent to serve and obey mankind” as his dad has always said, though he didn’t exactly agree with that. 

Dean still had no idea how he was going to break this one to his parents. How would you even begin? _”Hey Mom and Dad, I bought sex slave, but not for the reasons you think.”_ He sighed. He didn’t have much of a social life outside of work and family, so it wasn’t like he’d have _that_ many people to try to explain why he, of all people, had an omega. Dean just wanted to save the guy’s life. Cas didn’t deserve to get put down like a sick dog. 

_Who cares what people think of me,_ Dean thought to himself. People would no doubt assume he couldn’t get laid any other way, but that wasn’t what mattered in the end. _Let people think what they want._ He was going to give the angel the best life that he could give him, and god, Dean hoped his best would be good enough. He wanted to do good by Cas, show him the better side of life and the ways of how things should be. Just a few more things had to come into order first, and then they would all go North. Dean bet that Cas would love it there. 

_Speaking of…_

Dean left his bedroom in search for the angel, but he didn’t have to look far. Castiel was busy washing last night’s dishes at the kitchen sink, seemingly too caught up in scrubbing dishes to hear Dean approaching him. “Good morning, Cas.” 

Castiel jumped and his wings flared in surprise, the plate in his hand slipping back into the soapy water with a small thud. “M-morning, Dean.” he replied, eyes wide as he stared at Dean. 

Dean chuckled lightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s fine, Dean. I - I would have made you breakfast if I knew you would be awake at this hour.” He wrung the towel in his hands nervously. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that! I’ll take care of it.” Dean approached the fridge, and upon opening it, he groaned.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked from behind him. 

"We're pretty much out of food. Guess I better go grocery shopping. How about I finish up the dishes, and you head over and hang with Jess?" He suggested, turning around. Castiel shuffled, his wings folding closer to his back. God, those wings. Now that they were getting healthier, Dean could really see the delicacy of the feathers and the curve of the bone, as if they were sculpted by God himself. Their greatest feature, however, was their white golden color, like sunlight woven into feathers, feathers that looked so soft...

He shook those thoughts out of his head. 

"What?" Dean asked, curious as to why Castiel's expression had fallen.

"Jess and Sam left early this morning…" He said, not looking Dean in the eye.

Dean cursed, and Castiel flinched. Dean immediately felt horrible. "Oh, no, dude, I'm not mad at you. I just - taking you out in public could be dangerous for you, you know?”

“You could,” Castiel cleared his throat, “you could always leash me.” His suggestion was spoken quietly and timidly, eyes not moving high enough to meet Dean’s. 

Dean was appalled. “No man, I would never put you through that.” He shook his head. “No, we’re not gonna do that.” Cas looked to be relieved as his wings relaxed a little. Dean had to stop paying so much attention to them. “But I would like the company,” Dean started, “so as long as you stay close, you can come." Castiel nodded, but still wouldn't look him in the eye.

They both worked together at washing and drying the remaining dishes, and Dean showed Cas where everything went. 

“If you ever get hungry or thirsty, you help yourself, okay?” Dean said as he put the last glass in the cupboard. 

“Okay, Dean.” Castiel acknowledged, though he didn’t seem all that certain. Trust would come in time, or so Dean hoped. 

After they finished, Dean pulled on his leather jacket and together, they headed down to the car.

"What kind of music do you like?" Dean asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Castiel stared out the window, hands folded in his lap, "Whatev--"

"Nope, try again."

Castiel glanced at him, trying to see through him, as if trying to decipher something, before looking down at his lap. "I liked a lot of music as a child, before I was brought down here. I think my favorite was some genre called 'indie', but I might be wrong. It's been a long time."

Dean blinked. "Brought down here? Does that mean you were from the North...?”

Castiel nodded silently.

Dean turned back to the road. "That really sucks, man. Don't worry, you'll get back there."

Castiel turned to look out the window again, and his wings wrapped around his shoulders, as if to block himself from Dean's view.

Dean flicked on the radio, and tuned it to the closest channel that played anything resembling indie. He didn't adore the genre himself, but he wanted Cas to be happy. It was almost a compulsion, an obsession, if you will. It wasn't something he was unused to, but he didn't expect to feel that way towards anyone other than Sam. He just wanted to give him his best, after all that he’s been through.  
As a song came on, with some soft British guy’s voice and a weeping guitar backed up by some surprisingly good percussion, he thought he saw the trace of something that could have resembled a smile on the angel's lips.

\---

Dean had a pretty short grocery list, but he supposed since he was buying for two, Castiel ought to have some say in what they got. 

They had gotten through meat, dairy, veggies and frozen foods. Dean maneuvered through a huge crowd, making his way to the bread aisle.

"Do you like whole wheat or five seed? Ever tried either?" He called behind him. When he didn't get an answer, he stopped and turned around. His heart skipped a beat - Castiel was nowhere to be seen.

He abandoned the cart, racing to the end of the aisle and looking around for those golden wings.

Nothing.

"No, no, no, no…." He cursed under his breath, starting to backtrack. They'd passed the bathrooms a while back, maybe Castiel had needed to go and Dean hadn't heard him?

\----

"There you are, you stupid whore!" Hands came behind Castiel, one grabbing his arm and the other stifling the surprised shriek that attempted to escape his mouth. Castiel tried to push away and stand on his feet, but he was too weak and scared to fight the man as he dragged him inside the vacant bathroom and shut the door.

Castiel didn't need to see the man's face to know who it was; he was one of his former clients, one of the scarier ones at that, a businessman who went by the name of Daniel Finnigan. His regular visits back at Zachariah's always left Castiel in excruciating pain.

"It pained me when I heard that Zachariah sold you," He shoved Castiel against the wall and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Rumors are floating around that _you_ did something absolutely _horrendous_. What could a little bitch like you possibly do?" His breathed in his face, that familiar smell of stale garlic breath filled Castiel's nose. He turned his face away, but Finnigan grabbed his jaw with his long fingers and pried it open and brushed his lips with his thumb.

"You were made to have a cock shoved down that throat of yours," he hissed as he slammed Castiel down to his knees with a forceful hand pushing down on a bruised shoulder. Castiel let out a small whimper as his knees hit the floor, sending a small tremor through his body. Finnigan kicked him in the stomach, causing him to groan and double over.

"You can't... do this I... don't..." Castiel gritted through pain, but was cut off by Finnigan clicking his tongue as he unbuckled his belt.

"I can do _whatever_ I want to do, slut." He spat the last word, making Castiel cringe away. No he... he had a new master now, he didn't have to do this. But no, he did. He was nothing but a slave, an omega, an object, an instrument in the hands of men meant to submit and obey.

Finnigan smacked him across the face and took that moment to shove his cock down Castiel's throat. He gagged at the unexpected intrusion and his eyes flew wide open, tears beginning to form. His pubic hair tickled Castiel's nose with each thrust, each trust also opening Castiel's throat more and more to forcefully accept his cock.

"If I knew... you were being _ugh_... sold... you would be _mine_..." Finnigan kept Castiel still by grasping at the back of head, fistful of hair.

"Use your tongue." He demanded with an exaggerated thrust. Castiel was about to comply when that small voice in the back of his head spoke: _"You don't have to take orders from him. He is not your master, now is he?"_ No, he was not. He wasn’t.

Anger filled his senses, remembering all the past hurts this man had given him, and before he thought of consequence, he glared up at Finnigan and punched him in the balls. Finnigan pulled back in surprise, and Castiel took this moment to regain his body, throwing another punch that landed right under the man's ribs. He stood to his feet and punched him in the nose, causing Finnigan to fall to the ground. When the man went to get up, Castiel stepped on his chest, glaring down at him. Finnigan's eyes were filled with shock, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Castiel massaged his sore jaw and wiped a tear that had run down his face, "Never. _Touch_ me. Again." he snarled. Turning to leave, he saw Dean standing there, stunned by what he just witnessed. Any confidence and rage that Castiel had faltered and was replaced by fear, only just now realizing how completely out of line he had been.

"I-I..." Castiel started, unable to speak. _"I'm sorry I fought against a human please don't kill please don't punish me please don’t kill me I won't do it again."_ he mentally pleaded to his master. He had tried oh so hard to be good, why did he do this?

\----

Dean would like to say that in the face of danger, he snapped into action. Unfortunately, that was untrue. He walked into that bathroom, saw some random guy fucking Cas' mouth, and he froze in shock. Given a few more seconds he imagined he would have surged forward and pulled the guy off him.

Castiel beat him to it. A few well placed punches, and the asshole was on the ground before Dean could blink.

"Never. _Touch_ me. Again." His angel snarled, in a voice he hadn't yet heard from him, and turned to face Dean.

Then _he_ froze, and his wings dropped, face turning pale. The look of shock and terror on his face was what snapped Dean to attention. He didn't understand how Castiel could go from top notch badass to shaking in his boots, just from seeing Dean. Why did Dean scare him so much?

He raced forward, looking Castiel over quickly. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you badly?" He asked. Castiel just stared at the floor, shaking, seeming to be in shock. He didn't seem to be injured badly, but there might be something internal.

Dean turned to the dude on the floor, wilted dick still hanging out. "Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?" He exclaimed, anger coursing through his veins. Before the guy could say anything, Dean hoisted him up by his shirt collar and slammed him into the wall. "What gives you the fucking right to drag people out of their own business and rape them? Huh?" He demanded, seething.

The wide-eyed guy didn't even struggle against him, "He-He's j-just an omega--"

Dean punched him in the face. The guy went slack, moaning, blood gushing from his nose. "He's still a _person_. I could sue you for this! How long is it going to take for you fucking douchebags to realize they're still people?" Dean spat, letting the guy slump to the floor. He took a deep breath to calm himself, turning around.

Castiel had ducked his head and drew his wings around himself. He was shaking.

Dean wrapped an arm gently around him and led him out to the parking lot, ignoring the stares.

Once they got in the car, Castiel turned to him. "P-please, Master, I won't do it again, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assaulted a better, please--" He stammered desperately.

Dean stared at him. "Cas, it's not--"

Castiel only seemed to get more agitated, pawing at him and fluttering his wings, hand slipping down to cup his crotch.

"I can be good, I promise! I've been trying so hard, let me be good for you, please, I didn't mean to be bad, please don't put me down!" He begged.

Understanding hit Dean like a brick. The last time Castiel had stood up for himself, acted on independent will alone, he had almost been _killed_. No wonder he was trying so hard to be what he wasn't. He was scared. Being strapped down to a table and almost put to death would have shaken Dean up if he'd been in his position.

Dean reached down, and drew both Castiel's roaming hands into one of his. Then he reached over, and cupped Castiel's face, looking him calmly in the eye. This seemed to draw his attention, and he stopped blabbering, but he was still trembling, wings still dropping in submission.

"What you did in there was not bad, Cas. It was _good_. Don't you ever be afraid to defend yourself. Even against me, okay? If I make you uncomfortable, you have to call me out on it, same with Jess and Sam. We do not want to hurt you, but sometimes humans are stupid. That guy in there, he was bad. You are good. You are _so_ good, okay? I'm never going to be mad at you for defending yourself, or making your own decisions, or acting on your own free will. That's what I want. I want you to be comfortable, and happy, and safe. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to kill you. Do you understand?" He asked.

Castiel stared at him, slowly relaxing, "He…he wasn't you. He didn't get to touch me. But you can touch me,” he insisted, “I want you to touch me, it's alright if you do, but… he didn't get to anymore. Thank you for…." Castiel whispered, voice wandering off.

It was a start, Dean supposed, "I'm not going to touch you in that way, Cas… even if you say yes, it's not… you're confused, you don't understand consent all that well. Maybe… someday, okay? But not today. Today, well... I'm still hungry, how about we go get some fast food?" He offered with a smile, letting Cas go.

Cas sat back in his seat, still a little out of it, and Dean pulled out of the parking lot in favor of heading to his favorite burger joint. He ordered them both a burger, fries, and an ice cream cone.

Once they had their food, Dean drove to a little park, and parked in the shade under the tree.  
They finished their meal, leaving Dean to dig into the ice cream. Castiel stared at his, a wistful expression on his face.

"What's up?" He asked.

"I have not had ice cream for a very long time, not since I was a child."

Dean nodded. "All the more reason to savor it, eh?"

Castiel started nodding, and licked the white mound. The pink of his tongue darted out and swept white substance into that mouth, over and over, and Dean found himself getting extremely hard. He shifted to where Castiel wouldn't know, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the attention Castiel was giving the ice cream cone. His tongue laved over it, sweeping ice cream into his mouth over and over.

_Damnit Winchester, get ahold of yourself._

Suddenly, Castiel cringed in pain, "My head..."

Dean blinked, and tried not to laugh, "Stick your thumb to the roof of your mouth!" He instructed. Castiel did so, and slowly relaxed, but still pouting.

"That, my friend, is a brain freeze. You gotta be careful eating cold things." Dean explained, still trying not to laugh.

"I forgot about those…" Castiel muttered, glaring at the remainder of his ice cream.

"Just eat it slower, it won't happen again." Dean explained. He started up the engine, and they headed back home.

Dean decided to return to the matter at hand once they were sitting on the couch.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

Castiel looked up at him in confusion.

"After what happened. That guy practically raped you, and I know that you must be used to that, but….you shouldn't have to be. Do you need anything? Anything at all?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Dean wasn’t exactly sure how you he was supposed to deal with something like this. _I should have kept a better eye on him…_

Castiel looked down to his hands before he said, "I assure you, I am fine. He was more gentle this time, considering... but hasty."

"Wait - what do you mean, 'this time'?" Dean stared at him with bewilderment.

"He used to be a client. He..." Castiel drifted, memories returning of the many times that man hurt and abuses him.

"Hey," Dean placed a hand softly on Castiel's lap and he flinched from the contact, but didn't remove it, "it's alright. That lifestyle - if you'd even dare to call it that - is over. You're safe now, we'll protect you."

 

Castiel smiled sadly. _Where were you when he took me?_ Castiel thought bitterly. He would never truly be safe; he wasn't even safe as a child. He never was, and anyone who dared to protect him ended up dead.

Dean and Jess have been so good to him, he couldn't let them die because of a filthy angel like himself.

"Don't lie to me, Dean." Castiel snapped. That caught them both by surprise.

"Cas, I'm not lying I..." Dean tried, but Castiel just shook his head, "Okay, you're right, I failed you today, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve to be treated like that, you never have, and I wish..." Dean licked his lips, "I wish you never went through all that."

Castiel could feel himself weaken, becoming vulnerable in front of the man before him.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe from men like the one from today. I promise."

Castiel's blue eyes darted up to Dean's, "Don't promise that, I'm not--"

"Listen to me, Cas," Dean held his hands, "you're special. You may not believe it but you are, okay?" Dean said with sincerity. Castiel searched his face, and found nothing but kindness.

 _"You're only going to get him killed,"_ the voice whispered to him. Castiel frowned and turned away from Dean.

"You were pretty cool today, Cas. I'm proud of you."

Castiel looked up at him with a hint of wonder. 

_”This will not end well.”_

\---

Night had fallen, and they were both tucked away in their beds. Castiel laid in his, reluctant to sleep. He knew he needed it, his body was telling him as much, but it was the dread of nightmares that kept him awake at this hour.

Sleep hit him like a gentle breeze, lulling him into a state of rest. It began peaceful, silent, calm. Just as easy as that peace came, distress and disturbance came just as so, dragging him into an abyss of despair. It forced him to dream of the dark past that hovered his childhood.

...

Castiel couldn't have been any older than ten years of age. Lying naked on a bed, each limb was tied to one of the four posts that stood strong and proud at each corner of the bed. In his mouth was a tightly secured gag, only allowing his pitiful mewls to echo through the grand room. Tucked deep between his legs was a vibrator, stimulating his already over sensitive nerves that made him unique. Blindfolded, he was left to suffer in the darkness.

He had been lying there all day, alone and neglected. Master had gone to work early, and wouldn't return until nightfall. Till then, Castiel couldn't do anything, except wither through the dark and tears, wishing for this endless torture to end. It was too much, and it couldn't go away. He knew by the time Master came home he would be begging, pleading through tears to release him. _Please._

He was such a pitiful creature. A sad, filthy, pitiful creature. The vibrations in his ass, the ropes cutting into the delicate skin of his wrists and ankles, the scratchy collar around his neck - they reminded him of this every waking moment. The whip marks that stung his skin, the dark cover over his eyes, the pain in his wings, reminded him also. His body was not his own. He had to remember that. It wasn't his, it was Master's. _He_ belonged to Master.

Castiel felt like his soul was chained down to this pitiful shell one would call a 'body', almost like it simply didn't belong. His soul was just too big, too much for someone so small to control.

It was probably only because he was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Why was he so bad? Why couldn't he listen? He wanted to be good, but he always ended up being bad.

He would be good after this. So, so good. He said that the last time he got punished but this time, _this_ time, he would be good.

Hours, or mere minutes passed, Castiel couldn't keep track of the time. His small body was absolutely exhausted, consciences slipping away deep within himself. What brought him out of it was a light brush against his penis. As soon as that light touch left, he couldn't stop his body from whining and wiggling around, trying to find that touch once more. _Please._ He just wanted it all to stop.

"Have you learned your lesson while I've been away?" Castiel heard his Master say, although he couldn't comprehend it in his state. Master pet Castiel's sweaty head and he pulled the vibrator out of him slowly. Castiel whined as it left him, and whined again when it was pushed back in, then in and out in and unrhythmic matter. _Please stop please, no more._ He couldn't handle this any longer.

Thankfully for him, Master had gotten bored and removed it from Castiel's slick, aching hole. The ropes began to loosen, and he eventually found that his limbs were free. Slowly, he folded in on himself, making a sad attempt to escape his master. _"I'll be good now, I'll be good!"_ he wanted to plead to his Master, but he only whimpered. Hands grasped at his sensitive wings and he flinched away, but that only caused a painful tug at his feathers and he winced. They continued to work their way to his wing bone and he lay there, still.

Master's hands were rough, too rough. Castiel didn't like it at all, but that didn't matter. He was going to be good and let him do as he like to his poor body. Master grabbed a fistful of his feather and _pulled_ , tearing them out gruesomely. Castiel cried out in intense agony beneath the gag and sobbed. Pain pounded throughout his assaulted wing, traveling down his spine, causing him to be temporarily crippled.

"Shhh," Master cooed, stroking the angel's hair, "they'll grow back." He continued to sob; he was overcome with pain. An omega's wings were a sensitive thing, and though it wouldn’t take very long for them to grow back, the weeks before then were spent in agony.

Master removed his blindfold, and even though the room was dim, it seemed way too bright to Castiel, and he curled into a ball.

"Open your eyes, Castiel, look at your master," he said as he forced his head to look up at him. Slowly, he opened them. They were red and swollen, and the blue distant and sad; pained.

Master smiled sadistically and wiped a tear from Castiel's cheek, "Show me how good you are. Roll over."

...

"Cas!" A shout woke him up from his nightmare, and he clung to whoever the voice belonged to in search for comfort.

"Balthazar," Castiel cried into his shirt.

"Bal... who?"

Castiel looked up and saw Dean, worried and slightly confused. Castiel recoiled right when he noticed the one he had clung on to was not who he thought it was.

"D-D-Dean... I-I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Castiel felt ashamed.

"Yeah but, hey hey it's alright," Dean slowly sat down on his bed, "Do you... do you want to talk about it?"

Castiel shook his head, "N-no it was just a stupid dream." Castiel fiddled with the covers nervously, "I-I'm sorry I bothered you I'll-I'll try to be quiet next time."

"No, you don't-- It's okay, Cas." Castiel could see Dean smile sadly in the dim light, "I gotta ask though, who's... Ballteaser?"

Castiel looked up at him with narrow eyebrows, "... Balthazar?"

"Yeah, yeah that's the name. Not..." Dean trailed off, scratching his head, "But yeah, who is he?"

"He--" Castiel paused, licking his lips, "he's... he's my friend. He's like me."

"Back at the brothel?"

Castiel's head snapped up at the mention, but quickly turned it back down, staring at his fidgeting hands, "Y-yeah. We'd comfort one another after experiencing a nightmare," Castiel brought the blanket close to his chest as he continued, "Zachariah didn't permit it but... we did it every time anyways, sneaking into each other's beds." He smiled sadly at the memory. Balthazar was all alone now. Sure, there were the others, but you come to learn quickly it's best to only look out for yourself. Castiel wasn't one to follow the rules though, and that was something that everyone seemed to know at some point or another.

"Hey, come here." Dean patted the empty space beside him. Hesitantly, Castiel sat beside him, tucking his wings tightly against his back and lowering his head, taking a peek at Dean through his lashes. Castiel could tell that Dean wanted to just hold him, but he held back.

"You could always come into my bed, you know, when you have a nightmare." Then Dean quickly added, "No funny business I promise, just, you know, if you need to... cuddle... or something..." Dean flustered.

Castiel examined him. His master had good intentions, he could tell by the look in his eyes. But Castiel had a choice and he...

"N-no." Castiel cleared his throat, "I'll be fine on my own, I don't need you."

"Oh," Dean said quietly and rose from the bed, "I'll let you go back to sleep then." He walked over to the ajar door and turned back to Castiel before he left, "But if you ever want to, you can, Cas." The door shut with a small click.

He was now left there, alone. Without Dean's presence, he found himself reacquainting the fears that hid in the dark. There was no one to comfort him through the night, no one to say 'it is okay, it all will pass'.

He began to fold in on himself, hiding beneath the shelter of his wings. They were of a smaller size, but big enough to wrap around himself and then some. It was the best way he could comfort himself, an illusion he indulged himself with, making it seem like nothing could harm him past his feathery cocoon. 

It was moments like these that reminded him of who he was, and all his little faults. His strength, for one, not necessarily physical strength, but the strength to stand up for himself and others. Most of the time it was proven to be unwise, and many tried to beat it out of him but, it only felt right, even if it was wrong, and it could never go away.

He felt conflicted. The part of him that had been trained into complete submission wanted only that, submission, while the other only wanted to be free, to have complete control over the body his soul was chained to.

The conflicting emotions were boiling within Castiel and he just wanted them to be silent, holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth.

 _"You could always test the waters."_ the voice said, overruling all the other little voices in his head.

 _"What do you mean?"_ Castiel asked it.

_"Go climb into your master's bed. If all goes as he promised, you can trust him, more or less."_

_"I thought you said I shouldn't trust him."_

_"No, you shouldn't trust anyone. But... if all goes well, you will find peace and rest."_ Castiel found it odd and contradicting advice, but it was worth trying, he supposed. There was no way he would be able to sleep again this night if he were alone, without Balthazar, to be more precise. But Dean he... he was a good human, or seemed so. As the voice said, he couldn't trust anyone, which he didn't. Except for Balthazar.

Slowly, he opened the door and walked through the apartment room until he found Dean's room. Nervously, he tried the knob, but the door already seemed to be open. It creaked a little and Castiel winced, but the man in the bed did not stir. On silent feet, Castiel crept to the open side of Dean's bed and crawled into it. Dean's back was facing him, and for that he was thankful. He didn't think he could do this otherwise.

He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Dean to turn around and take him now but... he didn't. Going by his steady breath... he was asleep. Or, so he wanted to make Castiel think.

Oh, this was a bad idea. _Such a bad idea._ What if when Castiel was asleep, Dean would take him then? What if he woke up, bound to the bed and forced to remain so for the rest of the day, or the next? What if--

 _"Do you think Dean is that sort of man?"_ the voice said, cutting off his worrying thoughts.

_"I don't know. I don't... think so._

_"Go to sleep."_ Castiel took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and fell asleep to the rhythmic breathing of his sleeping master.


	4. The Waters Of Redemption Are Kinda Stale

Dean awoke, and the first thing he was aware of was a body next to his. He shifted, craning to look over his shoulder. Castiel was snuggled up against him, snoring peacefully. Dean felt his heart swell in his chest. It filled him with unimaginable joy that Castiel trusted him enough to at least seek comfort with him. And from the peaceful expression on the snoozing angel's face, it had worked.

Dean really didn't want to wake him, so he just layed there, admiring the way that the sunlight sparkled off the light gold of Castiel's wings. The feathers definitely seemed healthier as the days went by. Dean loved looking at Castiel's wings. He was struck constantly with the urge to touch them, but he held back. The last thing he needed was to end up molesting the angel.

Castiel looked so unburdened when he was asleep. Dean knew the minute he woke up, all those walls and wounds would fall right back into place.

As if thinking of it made it so, Castiel's eyes fluttered open.

Just as Dean predicted, Castiel tensed up the minute he gained his bearings.

"Mornin’, Cas. Sleep better?" Dean asked, smiling.

"I - y-yes, yes, I believe I did…thank you." He said, with wide eyes, as if he was surprised.

"You can do that whenever you like. I promise on my life, no funny business.” Dean shifted so he could face the angel better. “So, this…Balthazar person… were they just a friend, or more than that?" Dean asked, hoping now that Castiel would open up a little more.

The angel stroked his fingers over the pillow, staring down into nothing.

"He’s my best friend. He’s from the North, too. They captured him and brought him down, and gave him immediately to Zachariah. He was virgin up until then." Castiel sighed, turning onto his back and staring up at the ceiling like it was a window into the past.

"I was always the one to help them," Castiel spoke finally.

Castiel just lied there, staring at nothing with an unreadable expression. His eyes were lost in memories.

"Help who?" Dean asked slowly, eyeing the angel warily, unnerved by his state of calm, an almost emotionless misery.

"The new slaves at the pleasure house. Zachariah only bought new ones every once in a while, and they were usually experienced and knew what they were doing. But the _new_ ones, that had never done anything of the sort before like Balthazar, he would break them in immediately. Strip them down, tie them up, and let a whole room of customers that got off on virgins or whatever have them for the whole night.

"He always made sure they were cruel and rough about it; it was part of the process. Ripped them apart and beat them until they begged for it, then passed them around like a party favor, never letting them sleep or eat for days sometimes. Until he got tired of them, or decided they were properly broken in. Then he would toss them into their cold cells, and leave them there.

"I always snuck out and cleaned them up, fixed their clothes and healed their wounds as best I could, gave them the food I saved from my own rations. They needed the strength more than I did. Then I would hold them while they cried, and rock them to sleep. It may seem silly, but I always sang them to sleep, it seemed to help. I sang this song one of my old owners, a good nice old woman, used to listen to all the time.

"They begged me to let them die and I stayed silent because I could never find a good reason to tell them about why they had to stay alive. It was always me, no one else dared sneak out of their cells. Zachariah often beat me for it when he found out, but I didn't stop. I - I just couldn’t. I did it for Balthazar, and he did it for me and… we comforted each other, even.

"Before he came along, I passed out often when they did that. Now he's all alone, and he probably thinks I'm dead…" Castiel sighed.

Dean stared at his friend, something deep inside him twisting as he listened. "That's so horrible, Cas. I'm so sorry that you – that anyone – had or has to go through that. I hate slavery so much, I wish I could… do something. I'm sorry about your friend. If I had more money, I'd go buy him to, but I don't. God, I'm sorry. That must have been the worse." He whispered.

Castiel shook his head, "The _really_ bad part… the worst, actually… was getting tossed away like trash, after being used and abused and ripped open in so many ways. Just laying there, covered in blood and come and tears, on the cold ground, _alone_ , knowing that nobody gave a damn. Until Balthazar came along. And now I've left him alone." He whispered, voice cracking and a tear finally rolling away down his cheek.

Castiel blinked, glancing at Dean in confusion, as if he had just realized he'd poured his soul out. “It's alright, Dean, you saved me, and for that I'm grateful. I didn't mean to make you so emotional. May I go take a shower?" He asked politely.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'm gonna go see if Jess or Sam are home, so I can get to work. I'll be getting off early today." Dean said.

Castiel nodded and headed out to the hall, leaving Dean to get dressed, brush his hair and stretch a little before he headed to the door that joined the apartments.

"Hey, Dean! Sorry we were gone all yesterday, Pamela had an emergency." Sam apologized.

"It's okay. Gave me and Cas some bonding time… kinda." Dean said, sitting down at the table next to Jess.

She frowned, sensing his tone. "What happened?" She asked.

“Well,” Dean started, “we went shopping for groceries yesterday, and I hadn’t been keeping as close of an eye on Cas as I thought I was, and some sick bastard pulled him into the bathroom and when I finally found Cas, he was forced on his knees with a dick in his mouth.” He felt sick as he remembered it. “But then Cas punched him and the guy was on the floor in a matter of seconds. Boy, can he throw a punch...” Dean chuckled nervously. He didn’t really want to bring up how Cas had gotten so scared when he noticed Dean there, so he left that bit out. He didn’t want to further admit to his failure more than he needed to. Dean felt bad enough as it was. “I gave the dickwad a piece of my mind, and then we left and ate ice cream.” 

Sam and Jess just stood there, eyes wide. “Wow, that’s… you guys had quite the day yesterday.” Sam spoke first. 

“Is Cas okay?” asked Jess. 

“He was a little shaken, I guess, but he’s doing alright. Last night he had a nightmare,” Dean continued, “it sounded like a bad one, so I went to go check on him. Anyway, he ended up spending the night in my room and--” 

“What?” Sam interrupted, “you _slept with him_?” 

“We just shared the bed.” Dean said defensively, then sighed. “ _Anyway_ , after that, he slept fine, and then told me that he has this best friend ‘Balthazar’ that still in that place and probably thinks that Cas is dead now. He seemed pretty devastated.” There wasn’t really any need for him to go into full detail of everything that Cas had told him. He had to start a trust with him _somewhere_. Dean wasn’t that much of a dick that he’d start sharing all of Castiel’s stories. 

“Well… that seems a bit random.” Sam pouted. “Did he just bring it up or, did something happen that brought it up?” 

“He brought it up last night, but not on purpose. Apparently Balthazar was always there for him when he experienced a nightmare, and he took me for him at first.” 

“They sound very close,” Jess observed softly. 

“By the way Cas talks about him, yes, definitely.” Dean nodded. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I have to head off to work. Cas is in the shower right now… are any of you guys busy?” He asked, hoping that one of them could stay and keep an eye on Castiel. He didn’t really feel up to leaving him alone it the apartment yet; he’s only been living with them for a few days. And besides that, he just didn’t want to leave him alone period. Especially after yesterday’s incident. Until Castiel settled in a bit more, Dean didn’t want him to be left alone in apartment. 

"We can totally watch him today,” Same offered, “Jess quit her job at the clinic and my class is canceled ‘cause of repairs at the university." Sam said.

Dean's eyes widened, and he looked to Jess. She shrugged."With that bastard at the helm, that clinic is bound to go downhill. I've already applied to a clinic downtown, and they've got better hours anyway." Jess shrugged. "When Cas gets out of the shower, I should look over his injuries again, see how he's healing up."

Dean nodded, standing. "Well, I've got to go, tell him I said goodbye. And if, for any reason, you take him out of the apartment, please keep a close eye on him." Dean said, then headed off to work.

\---

After he quickly grabbed clean clothes from his room, Castiel turned the tap on in the shower and let his held back tears and sobs free, clinging onto the sink counter as he did so.

His friend was all alone now, despaired as he must have believed him dead, left in Zachariah's clutches. Oh god, he hoped that Balthazar wouldn't go and do something stupid. To think that he would... no, he wouldn't, would he? He would. _He would!_ He would kill himself, or he would try, at the very least. As for how long until he did, Castiel didn't know. For so many of them, death was like a dream come true, a lullaby of longing on the tongues of slaves. But not Castiel. Death would only be another version of this living hell.

Zachariah probably already bought a slave to replace him. If he did, Castiel did not want to know who it was. After all, slaves are nothing but pieces of property. Although Castiel tried to convince himself this to lessen his guilt, he knew it wasn't exactly so. There were aching souls underneath every collar.

Castiel sniffled and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the ground, followed by his pants and all the bandages that covered his wounds. He didn't even bother folding any of it, and left it all in a messy ball on the tiles of the bathroom floor.

He walked into the shower without checking the temperature first and sat under the falling water with his knees tucked close to his chest. The water was very hot, but its calescence bothered him none. He just sat curled up under the spray, tears mixing in with the water that flowed down his chin.

He didn't deserve to be saved by such nice people, treating him like more than what he was. He was nothing but a disgusting, disobedient slave that seemed to never break, no matter the punishment. So many people, good people, died for the piece of shit that was him. He had let their alluring promises of going North draw him close, only for him to lead them to their death. And then Dean, Jess, Sam, they all talk about taking him North. The word alone gives him a bad taste in his mouth. Of course he wanted to be free of this life, especially after having a small taste of freedom, but it wasn't worth the lives of these good people he has come to know.

Deciding he has had his pity party long enough on the bottom of the tub, he stood up slowly and began to wash his hair with the shampoo provided. It was gentle enough against his scalp, and it felt good to become clean, although he truly never will be. He massaged his head until it became quite sudsy, then washed it all out, watching the bubbles circle the drain until they all disappeared.

When it came time for the soap, he had to be more careful. His few wounds that were once open were now scabbed over, more or less. Even so, the area surrounding each and every one was sore to the touch. Not like pain was a new concept for him, but it was uncomfortable, and wished to avoid it as much as he could. Gingerly, he let the soapy bubbles lather on his skin.

Soon enough, he was clean of all the sweat and oils that had clad is skin. He shook the excess water from his wings, the action causing a bolt of pain to shoot down his spine. Castiel winced, then stepped out of the shower to be met by his reflection in the steamed mirror. He walked towards it and wiped at it until his reflection was clear. In it, he could see the life has returned to his cheeks, but that might only be from the steamy shower or the tears he shed.

Next he observed his neck. Castiel brought his hand up and touched along the tender edges of the red collar that he wore under the one of leather and metal. He swallowed as he remembered how painful it had been around his neck, slowly sucking the life out of him. The wet leather of his collar rubbed painfully against the deep wound, and he would be pleased when it would be rewrapped with the soft bandages that Jess always put on him.

He then observed his bruises and cuts across his chest and arms, covering up old scars. Some of the cuts would leave a permanent mark, while others were only temporary, thankfully. Even then, his body was still a mess. Such a disgusting creature, he was.

Water had pooled at his feet by the end of his examination, and Castiel grabbed a towel from the rack and began to dry himself off. He gave his wings another shake, making them as dry as he could. His right wing still gave him pain, but it had improved over the past few days.

He hanged the damp towel back on the rack in a very precise manner and looked to the mirror again, staring back into the blue eyes that met him.

He wasn't sure why he told Dean so much this morning. Something happened last night; a certain trust was beginning to form. It scared Castiel, yet he opened up like that at a single question that Dean asked. The wariness he held against these humans was starting to lessen to the trust that was trying to sneak through. Why? Why was he trusting them? He understood that not all humans were sick and cruel, but that didn't mean that Dean couldn't just turn around and be just like any other Master that owned him. Or, he could get tired of him and sell him off to someone else. That was a devastating thought.

Turning away from the mirror, he looked to the pile of clothes that he grabbed in a hurry. He picked up a navy blue t-shirt and pulled it over his head. Its material was quite soft, which Castiel was thankful for. His underwear and socks soon came after, then a pair of blue jeans. After one last quick look over in the mirror, he picked up his ball of clothing, bandages in another, and walked out of the bathroom.

In the living room, he found Jess and Sam talking, pausing to look up at him.

"Good morning, Castiel," Jess smiled, "Dean went to work already, so we're going to keep you company today."

"Oh, you don't have t--"

"No, Cas, we want to spend time with you." Sam said quickly.

"A-alright," Castiel said slowly, "I'm just - I'm going to put these away." He looked to the bundle of clothes and began to walk away.

"Here Cas, wait," Jess went after him until he stopped and turned to her, "I'll take these dirty bandages for you."

"Thank you," Castiel said blankly and walked to put them in the laundry hamper. Even though they were laundry, he felt the need to fold them and place them neatly into the basket. He wanted to show them how thankful he was for the kindness he has been given the past few days in every way he could. And maybe that way, there would be no thoughts of ridding him to the next man willing to pay for a faulty angel.

"May I take a peek at your wounds there?" Jess asked when Castiel came back in the room. He nodded and let Jess come close to him.

"Your healing very well, Castiel." Jess observed as she examined his arms. Castiel hummed in agreement. "And your wing, how is it feeling?"

"It is fine, thank you for your concern." Castiel said as Jess lifted his shirt to examine his chest, and he couldn't help but shudder as she did so.

"I'm sorry, Cas, but I have to look." She said with concern.

"It's fine." Castiel said quickly. The multicolored bruises on his chest made him look like some artist's masterpiece.

"Alright, I’m done," Jess announced, "These ones just need a bit of air, and you'll be as good as new!" Angels healed faster than humans, but not by much. It really all depended on the wound, and where it is located. 

Omegas heal the fastest out of all the angels, as if their biology knew beforehand the hardships they would have to endure. 

“Now, about your neck…” Jess reached into her medical bag on the table and took out what she needed to dress the wound on Castiel’s neck, following the same steps that they took last night. He was relieved that the irritation caused by the constant rubbing of leather on skin had diminished immensely.

Sam stood up and began to walk to the door to their apartment, "How about you join us for breakfast, Cas."

Castiel exchanged glances with the couple, "I would appreciate that," he said quietly.

"Good! Because we would too," Jess smiled as she and Sam walked into their apartment. Castiel took a deep breath and followed them. He took a look around the room as Jess went to the kitchen and Sam to the table.

"Eggs and toast good?" Jess asked Castiel as she peeked her head around the corner.

"Yes." he replied.

"Do you need a hand?" Sam asked Jess.

"No, I can handle a bit of cooking," she teased, "How about you two go sit at the table and talk while you wait."

Castiel hesitantly glance over at Sam, who was already sitting at the table, and decided to join the man. Sam seemed to be kind of heart, sympathetic, but Castiel really hadn't been around his master's brother long enough to place much trust, or much of an honest opinion, into him.

"So..." Sam started, "Do you, uh, have a favorite food?"

Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he contemplated the question. Favorite food? _Food_ was his favorite food.

"I find all food very pleasing." He answered with obviousness, given that it was a stupid question.

"Oh..." Realization must have hit Sam that the answer to his question was an obvious one. Scratching his head, he opened his mouth to speak again, but nothing came out.

Castiel sat there, silent. He supposed he could try to bring up conversation, but he didn't exactly know how, or if he was allowed to. Feeling daring enough to test his boundaries, he decided on a question, "Do you not have to be away from home today?"

Sam looked at him and seemed happy enough, "No, classes were canceled today, so I decided that why not spend it with you so we get to know each other more?"

"I'm not really interesting. I'm... there's nothing to know." Castiel said quickly, scared to share about himself with the man.

Sam smiled softly, "From what I know about you already, you are interesting."

Know? What does Sam know about him? How _does_ he know? Did Dean share whatever Castiel told him with his family? That stuff wasn't interesting it was just… a part of his life. An angel’s life isn’t interesting. It is a nightmare.

"Breakfast is ready!" Jess announced as she brought three plates to the table. Sam quickly grabbed the one balancing on her arm and placed it in front of Castiel. The eggs were scrambled, and the toast had both peanut butter _and_ jam on it. His mouth began to salivate as he imagined eating each and every bite.

"You can start eating, Cas." Jess said. Sam looked up at them and saw that they themselves were already eating.

Castiel hummed then grabbed a forkful of eggs, stuffing them into his mouth. _So good._ When he was almost done chewing, he grabbed another forkful and ate it happily.

It was odd to sit at the same table that the humans ate their food. It was almost like he was considered their equal, sharing the same grounds. That's the way Sam and Jess seemed to see it. Castiel knew they were wrong, but the gesture was kind, although it made him a bit nervous.

Jess left and came back to the table with a cup of orange juice for Castiel. He muttered a small "thank you" then took a sip, then another, and another. He hasn't realized how thirsty he was until now. He looked up from his cup and found Jess smiling at him, and he felt embarrassed as she took one small sip from her cup.

Sam and Jess talked a bit through breakfast, but Castiel kept quiet and concentrated on eating. When Sam and Jess were not looking, he hid bits of food in his clothing for when they decided to deny him of food. It was a precaution that saved him on many occasions.

"I'm going to go look at other clinics tomorrow, see if I can get a job at one of them." Castiel looked up at what Jess said. Why was she looking to work at another?

As if she knew what he was thinking, Jess said to him, "I quit working at the other one. If I was there for another day, I'd probably be charged with murder." Jess chuckled a bit.

Castiel was confused, "Putting down an angel is not murder."

Jess's face fell at his assumption, "No, I meant I'd kill my boss, or I should say, former boss. And despite what you believe, killing an angel _is_ murder. You don't just... _kill_ someone because you can that's... that's wrong."

"What if--" Castiel started, voice cracking a bit, "what if they deserve it?"

"Castiel," Sam cut in before Jess could, " _nobody_ deserves to die, no matter what they've done."

The things these people said and believed, they reminded him so much of them; the ones that died in hopes to set him free. Why were they so kind to him? Did they not see what a piece of shit he was?

"Don't worry, Cas," Sam said as he picked up Castiel's empty plate, "we're here to help you."

\---

Dean pulled two beers out of the fridge.

"I hope one of those is for me!" Benny called cheerily as he entered the door, setting the food crates down and practically skipping over to Dean. Dean passed him one of the beers and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the good mood all about?"

"Ya know those poker games Stanson holds every once and a while? Guess who won the whole damn jackpot, brother!" He beamed. 

Dean's eyes widened. "Holy shit, Benny! How much did you win?"

"Thirty grand, my good friend. I've already working on putting half of it into our North fund, don't worry. Can't put it all in, the bank will get pissy. You know they've got spies form the gov with their fingers in everyone's business, especially if they're planning on heading North. Not sure what I'm gonna do with the rest, though."

"That's amazing, dude. I'm happy for you."

"Now that we've talked about my good mood, let’s talk about your bad one." Benny said, giving him a knowing look.

Dean shrugged, "I don't want to ruin your vibe, man--"

"Spill, brother."

Dean told him what he had told Jess and Sam. By the end of it, Benny look pale, but thoughtful.

"Do you know where this brothel your angel came from is?" He asked after a few thoughtful moments.

"Yeah, it's a few blocks away from Jess' old clinic, why?"

"Well, brother, I happen to have some money on my hands. I can't let you hog all the angel-savin' glory, now can I?" He said, smiling.

Dean's eyes widened. "Are you talking about buying Balthazar?" he exclaimed. "You don't even know him; you don't even know _Cas_!"

"Nah, but I know you, and Jess and Sam, and I know a good idea when I see one. Dorothy, would you let the angels up?" He called, upon seeing his sister. She complied, and soon they were all bustling for breakfast.

"Seriously, Benny, it's your money, you don't have to--" Dean started.

Benny held up a hand. "I'm buying this angel and that's final, brother. Now, lets eat and get to work so we can leave early and head down to that brothel."

\---

Zachariah smiled upon the sight of Dean, "Have you grown tired of that pest? I could give you a refund if you--"

"No, I'm not tired of Cas. He's quite satisfactory, actually, and my associate here wants to buy the angel called Balthazar." Dean cut him off. Benny smiled from besides him.

Zachariah's expression twitched. "Balthazar is one of our most popular commodities, due to his multi spectrum colored wings, it would take quite a lot to convince me to give him up--"

"Five thousand dollars."

"Right this way, gentlemen." Zachariah smiled and happily signed the paperwork and took Benny's money.

He turned to a silent guard. "Fetch #45 from cellblock seven, please."

Benny stepped up. "Actually, I'd like if we went to get him ourselves." He said calmly. Zachariah clenched his jaw, but allowed it.

The cellblock smelled of blood, sex and shit. It was dark and cold, the hallway's clean and sterile, but the cells dusty and mold smelling. Literal chains hung from the walls. Dean's stomach turned over and over as they walked, repulsed at the idea that anyone would be forced to live here.

The guard stopped at a cell at the end of the hall, drew out his baton and unlocked it. He went to step in himself, baton raised, but Benny caught his arm and shoved him back.

"He's mine now, lay a hand on him and I'll have you sued." Benny growled. Benny could be pretty scary sometimes.

Benny ventured into the cell, followed by Dean. Huddled against the back wall was an angel with blonde hair and huge wings, very big for an omega, with a rainbow of colored feathers that ranged from neon pink to forest green to navy blue. His face was streaked with tears, and he glared at them.

"Y-you better be here to kill me." He said testily, but his eyes widened at his own voice and he couldn't seem to help but droop his wings in submission.

Benny leaned down in front of him. "No, brother, I'm here to get you out of here, I'm here to save you. Hard to believe, I know, but it's true. This here is Dean, he saved your friend, Castiel."

Balthazar jumped up, eyes wide and desperate, wings fluttering. "Castiel? Is he alive?" He asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, they were planning on killing him, but I bought him before they could. He told me all about you, he felt horrible to leave you here all alone. He misses you." Dean assured him.

Balthazar's eyes filled with tears, and he looked them both over. "Is he okay?"

Dean gave a faint smile. “Yeah. He was pretty beat up beforehand but, he’s on the mend.”

"We just want to get you out of here, alright? There will be no touchin’ or hurtin’ of you in any kind.” Benny assured him. 

Balthazar didn't seem to believe this, but he got up to go follow them out of the brothel anyway. _He doesn’t really have much of a choice_ , Dean thought sadly. 

“I’m Dean.” He introduced, hand extended. Balthazar took it hesitantly and gave a light shake. “And this here’s Benny.” 

“You’ll be stayin’ with me.” Benny informed him as he shook Balthazar’s hand. He nodded, and followed them out to the Impala.

As they got into the vehicle, Dean watched as Balthazar squirmed and shuffled, trying to get his big wings to fit in the back of the car. It took the angel a bit, but he managed to get them somewhat comfortable, Dean presumed when he finally sat still. 

“Ready back there?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, sir.” Balthazar replied, fidgeting under Dean’s eye.

“It’s alright, you can call me Dean.” 

“No need for the formalities when you’re with us, brother.” Benny added. 

Balthazar looked from one man to the other, then nodded. 

Now, if it was off back to Dean's place. When they reached his apartment room, Dean poked his head in the door. Nothing. Castiel must be at Jess and Sam's. He led them inside, and motioned towards the couch. “Take a seat. Cas is just next door.” 

Balthazar eyed him with faint suspicion, before making his way towards the couch. His eyes lit up when he scented Castiel.

"I'll go get him, and Jess. She can look you over for injuries before you head home with Benny." Dean told Balthazar, then headed to the door.

Castiel and Sam were sitting on the couch, watching a documentary about bees. Castiel looked enraptured in it. Jess was making grilled cheese sandwiches.

They all looked up when he entered. Castiel froze, sniffing. His eyes narrowed, "You smell like the brothel, Dean." He said accusingly. Sam stared at him.

"That I do, Cas. Payed it a little visit with my friend Benny, we had to pick something up. Come on, I'll show you." He said, beckoning them all to follow.

Castiel followed him warily, Sam and Jess not far behind. The angel froze in the doorway, nostrils flaring. He rushed forward, not even giving Balthazar a chance to stand up before he embraced him, burying his face in the crook of the other angel's neck. Balthazar began to cry, clutching at Castiel, as if he couldn't believe he was real.

"Th-they s-said you were dead--" Balthazar sobbed.

"I would be, if it weren’t for them." Castiel said, pulling back a little.

Balthazar glanced back at Dean, gratitude in his eyes. Jess came forward, first aid kit in hand.

"Mind if I look you over, Mr. Flashy Feathers?" She asked sweetly. Balthazar tensed, glancing at Castiel for confirmation. Castiel nodded, and Balthazar sat down on the couch, letting Jess look him over and clean him up as she had Castiel days before.

Cas held his other hand in his the whole time, watching and comforting a wary Balthazar. When she was done, Balthazar turned to Castiel and looked him straight in the eyes with a serious expression.

"Do you trust them?" Balthazar asked quietly, though enough not that Dean didn’t overhear what he had just said. Castiel glanced at Jess, at Sam, at Benny, and then finally his eyes landed on Dean.

"…I think so. I can't speak for the other one, the one that smells like hay and car oil, but if Dean trusts him… there is a chance that they are telling the truth, Bal." Castiel said.

Balthazar pursed his lips. "But you wish they weren’t. Cas, if they're for real, you can't compare them to _her_. I mean, they've bought us legally, what happened to her won't happen to them, right? Wouldn't Me-" But Castiel cut him off by yanking away as if he'd been stung, eyes hard.

"You promised you wouldn't talk about her!" He hissed.

Balthazar glanced around subconsciously, and sighed. "Alright, alright…so, what now?" He asked, to the room in general.

Castiel relaxed a little, and scooted back to Balthazar’s side, laying his head on his friends shoulder, wings fluttering happily. It warmed Dean's heart.

"Well, I don't live very far, right next to the shop where me and Dean work. So if Balthazar wants to come over here every once and a while, it's alright, same with Castiel over to my place. But it can't be an everyday thing, like your used to, we've all got lives, ya know…." Castiel's wings drooped at that, but he didn't make any protest. 

Dean scratched the back of his head. "Well, Ben, we could always take them with us to work, and they could help Dorothy or just hang out. I don't think the alpha's will do anything, they're all good guys, and Dorothy'll smack 'em around if she see's anything fishy." Dean shrugged. "And it would take the load off Jess."

Benny nodded. "That's a great idea. Well, we better get home and introduce this fella to Dorothy, get his room made up. Don't worry, y'all see each other in the morning."

Balthazar and Castiel hugged once more and said their farewells. There was more that they had said, but their voices were too quiet for Dean to make out. It wouldn’t be right to eavesdrop on them anyway. 

Benny and Balthazar left, followed by Jess and Sam, till it was just Dean and Cas.

He smiled at the angel, "Benny's a great guy, Dorothy's nice, and they’re both going to North with us when we go. They won't hurt your friend." He assured him.

 

 _North._ Castiel thought bitterly. _People only die when they try to go North._ His nostrils flared.

"I hope you're right about that friend of yours," Castiel walked until their faces were only breaths apart, "because if he hurts Balthazar in any way, I’ll make sure that the chances of any of you having children will fall below zero." His threat was backed up by the anger emitting from his intense stare.

Dean's eyes widened with shock, if not a bit of fear, and took a step back at the sudden aggression the omega just performed. Castiel realized what he just said and shrunk back, scared of what Dean would muster up to punish him for his inappropriate outburst.

"Cas," Dean reached out an arm to grab Castiel, but he flinched away from his touch and walked backwards until his back hit the wall, wings brushing against pictures that hanged there.

"Cas it's--"

Castiel began to panic, "I'm sorry Master I-I th-that was inappropriate I-I didn't mean I please have mercy I-I can make it up to you I can--"

"Cas." Dean walked up to Castiel, whom tensed and waited for Dean's fist to meet with his face.

"Cas it's – it's okay."

"No, no it's not!" Castiel cried, "I'm bad I – I'm broken and damaged and dirty and I can't do anything right and I just — I get so angry and I can't--" He lowered himself to the ground and hid his face in his hands, trying to hide his uncontrollable sobs. “I didn’t mean to I didn’t mean--”

"Hey," Dean said gently, lowering himself to Castiel's level, "you have a right to be angry. These monsters took everything away from you, from Balthazar, just because of what you are and that's—that's not right. You're good, Cas, you're not broken. Damaged, maybe, but not broken. I want to help you, but you gotta let me. _We_ want to help you. You deserve so much, so much that we want you to come North with us, so you can be free; be yourself."

"I don’t even know what ‘myself’ is." Castiel spoke in a voice as quiet as a whisper. It was more a question to himself than anyone else.

"You might not know right now, but you will." Castiel peeked up and looked at Dean. "Benny wants to help as much as us. Balthazar will be fine, much better that with that dick, may that bastard rot in Hell."

Castiel started to calm down and unraveled from the ball he made of himself. "Dean I'm–I'm sorry I got so upset I know I should trust you but--"

"Cas, listen to me, you have nothing to be sorry for." Dean's voice was soft and gentle, "And trust that's... that's not something that comes right away. In time, I hope you will. But for now, I don't want you to worry about it, okay?"

Castiel looked at him and nodded, "Alright, Dean."


	5. It's A Small World After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a friend of mine the other day,  
> And he told me that my eyes were gleamin'.  
> Oh I said I had been away, and he knew,  
> Oh he knew the depths I was meanin'.  
> And it felt so good to see his face,  
> Or the comfort invested in my soul.  
> Oh to feel the warmth of a smile,  
> When he said "I'm happy to have you home.  
> Ooh I'm happy to have you home."  
> \- Ben Howard 'Keep Your Head Up'

Castiel shot up from his pillow with a gasp. His whole body trembled as he tried to calm himself from the assaulting nightmare he had just experienced. _I'm fine, I'm fine,_ he told himself, leveling out his breathing by counting up and back down again, waiting for his heart to slow its rapid pace. Reaching over to the nightstand, he turned on the lamp. The light was bright, but gentle, and it pushed away Castiel's fears to a bearable distance within his head.

He was with Dean, he reminded himself. Dean said he'd do his best to keep him safe, to take care of him. Even so, doubts continued to gnaw away at him, now even more so than they had before.

 _"Go to sleep with Dean."_ He could do that. Last night's sleep had been and improvement to the other nights that he had stayed here. Dean _did_ say he could crawl in bed with him whenever he liked.

Before Castiel even knew what he was doing, he was walking through the apartment to Dean's room. Slowly pushing the door open, he peered in on the sleeping man. Dean shifted and mumbled under his breath, but he did not wake. With silent footsteps he went to the empty side of the bed and curled up beside Dean.

Upon feeling the sink in the bed, Dean unconsciously rolled over and pulled Castiel close to his chest. His breath caught in his chest and he tensed at the action, but Dean did nothing more but hold him close. Castiel could hear the slow, steady beat of Dean's heart, and feel his breathes in his hair. The man's scent filled his nose, and Castiel found it surprising calming. With them all added together, along with the protective hold of Dean's strong arms, Castiel found peace. As soon as the angel shut his eyes, sleep hit him with a tender nudge.

He slept all through the night, and he had to say, it was one of the best sleeps he has had in a long time. He felt rested, light. As he opened his eyes, all that heaviness of carrying guilt and fear returned within moments. Through blurry eyes he found Dean laying next to him, back towards him.

As if the man knew Castiel had awoken, he rolled over on his side, now very close face-to-face with Castiel, still sound asleep. If he took the time, Castiel could probably count every single freckle that was dashed upon Dean's nose.

Dean shifted in his sleep, mumbling a bit as he rubbed up against Castiel's leg. It didn't take long for him to note _what_ exactly was being rubbed against him. It seemed Dean had a piece of morning wood that was itching to be taken care of. Castiel bit his lip, contemplating on what should be done.

This was his chance, his chance to show Dean his gratitude on caring for him and putting up with his faulty attitude. Licking his bottom lip with a quick swipe of his tongue, Castiel lowered his hand to between Dean's thighs and softly grabbed at his dick through his pajama pants.

"Cas," Dean hummed. Castiel slipped his hand under Dean's waistband and laid a warm hand at his base. Dean's eyes shot open and stared into Castiel's with shock. Castiel looked at him quizzically, the Dean shot up from the bed.

"What the fuck, Cas!" Dean said, backing away to the door. Castiel's wings flared in surprise at Dean's sudden movement and raised voice. Dean looked down at his pants and walked out of the room in a hurry at the sight of the tent in his pants.

Castiel felt panic rise inside his chest. Was he _not_ supposed to do that? Besides the obvious, Dean was practically asking for him to help him out. Was Dean mad at him? He definitely was. What was he going to do when he came back? _Was_ he going to come back? Castiel stood to his feet and began walking in small, nervous paces back and forth.

He froze mid-step as Dean walked back into the room.

"I'm sorry De--" Dean held up his hand, and Castiel shut his mouth and stood very still.

"Okay we – we're gonna have to set some rules here." Dean said.

"Rules?"

"Yes, rules. If we're gonna be sleeping together... ugh no not like that's it's—uh no, if we're going to be sharing a bed, we need to set some... boundaries." Castiel lowered his head as he listened, but kept his eyes locked on Dean's face. "We can still share it we just have to... keep it PG."

Castiel cocked his head. He wasn't exactly sure what Dean meant by that. Dean seemed to notice his confusion.

"Uh, basically we can cuddle or whatever as much as you want, but nothing sexual, you understand?"

There was still something that Castiel still didn't understand, "Yes, I understand. But Dean," Castiel lowered his head again, "why deprive yourself of something you… clearly wanted?"

"Uh...?"

"You moaned out my name when I touched your--"

" _Okay!_ " Dean clapped his hands together and let out a nervous laugh, "How about we uh, go eat something then head out. You get to see Balthazar soon after we eat."

Castiel knew Dean was avoiding the obvious, but he let that pass and focused on the fact that he was going to see his friend again. He did worry a bit for his well being, but it this Benny was anything like Dean, then Balthazar was fine. Or so he hoped.

Breakfast was spent with quiet company, as there was still a bit of tension that was neglected to be cleared. Both had a bowl of cereal. It was nothing fancy whatsoever, but to Castiel, it was absolutely amazing. The fact that he got to eat three meals a day, and sometimes snacks in between, was a miracle in itself. Castiel couldn't remember ever eating this much in his life. More than often, he ate way more than he found comfortable, but he wasn't going to take this blessing lightly. He always ate every single thing he was given.

Dean grabbed their empty bowls and placed them in the sink. "I'm planning to head out soon, so if you want to get dress and wash up or whatever you need to do, you should do that now."

"Yes, Dean." Castiel said as he got up from his seat and headed to the bathroom. He closed the door and the lights flickered on. Grabbing a cloth, he turned on the sink and wet the cloth with the cold water. As he rubbed it against his face and the back of his neck, it brought him a certain freshness. He had seen Jess bandage his neck enough that he could do it himself without difficulty, and so that it was he did. Soon, it would be well enough to leave it as is, more or less.

After relieving himself, he left the bathroom and quickly got dressed in his room.

"Ready to go?" Dean asked when Castiel finished getting dressed. Castiel nodded in response.

"Great!" Dean smiled and grabbed his car keys.

\---

The first few minutes of the drive was silent, until Dean finally broke it.

"I failed you the other day. I told you I'd keep you safe, but I failed you. I promise you, Cas, I won't today. Where we're going, it's a safe place. All the alpha angels are good guys, and hey, maybe you’ll make friends."

 _Wait a minute._ "You have slaves? I thought you were _against it_." Castiel probably emphasized the last bit a little too much that it would be considered rude.

"No, well, they're my dad's. He's all for the 'angels were born to serve mankind' thing. Benny, his younger sister Dorothy and I do as much as we can to make things comfortable for them. They're all good guys, good workers," _Of course we're good workers, if we're not we get beaten,_ "and I wish we could more for them."

Castiel watched Dean's expression as he spoke. He truly did care about about these angels, it was written all over his face.

"It's not your fault." Castiel said after a few moments silence.

"What's not?" Dean asked.

"The grocery store, it wasn't your fault." _It was my own._

"Thanks Cas, it wasn't your fault either. But, if we're really gonna play the blame game here, it was that bastard's fault. How could someone just..." Dean trailer off with a disgusted scowl on his face. Castiel looked at him with a bit of concern. Did Dean not like sexual encounters? Did they... _disgust_ Dean? Does that mean that _he_ disgusts Dean?

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said when he noticed the look on his face, "it's just, how can someone treat someone a nice as you so cruelly, let alone another living being."

"It is how it is." Castiel said plainly.

"Yeah, well it shouldn't be." Dean grumbled, then turned on the radio to chase away any more uncomfortable silence. As they drove on, any tension that was once there was gone, leaving them in comfort that the music brought.

But as they drove into the yard, Castiel became anxious. He should be happy; he was going to see his friend again. Perhaps this anxiety came from the fact that this was a new experience for Castiel. 'New' scares him.

"Here we are." Dean said as he put the car in park. Castiel looked through the car windows nervously, taking in his new surroundings.

"Where are the others?" Castiel asked, still looking around.

"The guys? They're not out for the day yet, so don't worry. You and Balthazar will be safe in my office." Dean said as he got out of the car with Castiel close behind him. The walk to his office wasn't far at all.

"Morning, brother." Benny said as they walked through the door.

"Morning!" Dean said cheerfully as he pulled out a chair. "Here, Cas," he motioned to the chair for him to sit.

"Just a minute," Benny peered into a door that lead to another room, "your friend's here." Slowly, Balthazar emerged from behind the doorway, and rushed to hug Castiel at the first sight of him.

"Cassie!" Balthazar exclaimed with glee. A small smile appeared on Castiel face as he embraced his friend. He felt himself relax to contentment as his nose filled with his familiar scent and felt him comforting touch.

Dean smiled, "Benny and I have to get to work now, but if you need anything at all, Dorothy won't be too far."

"She'll be in the main office." Benny added.

"Alright, Dean." Castiel said, still wearing that small smile.

"Be good!" Dean said right before both men left to the yard.

Castiel turned back to the other omega and placed his hands on his shoulders. "It's good to see you again, Bal."

"You too Cassie, you too." Balthazar hugged him once more before both omegas took a seat.

"Have they been treating you well?" Castiel asked in a more serious tone.

"Actually, yeah, if you consider being fed so much that you want to spew a good thing." Balthazar joked, "But no they've... they've been good. They made me sleep in a bed, in a really, really nice room..." Balthazar paused a moment before he continued, "I was waiting for a catch, for Benny to come and demand sex in the dead of the night but, he and his sister simply said 'good night' and didn't return until morning. You think that they're... genuinely good people or will they attack when our guard is down?" Balthazar searched his friend's face with worry.

"I don't know I–I...." Castiel bit his lip, "I-I think..." Balthazar waited for Castiel's opinion, "All they have showed me is kindness, and Dean has this look he—he wouldn't hurt me." _I think_

"Does Cassie have a little crush on his master?"

"What? No." Castiel scowled and Balthazar chuckled. "The only feeling I harbor towards Dean is gratitude."

"Oh c'mon, not even a little? His pretty face doesn't stir any of those long forgotten feelings of love and desire?"

" _Balthazar_." Castiel scolded.

"I'm sorry, Castiel. It's just... I'm glad I'm away from that place, and that you're safe." Balthazar smiled at him with sincerity.

Castiel scoffed, but smiled faintly. He might not have acted impressed with the immature antics, but it was Balthazar's humor that pulled him through the roughest of days.

"You've been in slavery longer than I, so I have no reason to not trust your judgement. If you trust them, I shall try to do the same." said Balthazar.

"You shouldn't do that you should—just see for yourself. I don't know Benny or Dorothy."

"That may be, but from what I heard from them, they have the same views as your Dean. Apparently, they’re taking us back North with them! How about that?"

Castiel's face turned to a stony expression. That venture was not worth the outcome, that he knew.

"Don't be that way, Cassie. This will be different than then. Sounds like it'll be difficult but, it's doable, and safe." Balthazar said carefully, "We'll I mean, safe-ish..." he mumbled.

"It's not worth it. _I'm_ not worth it. It's foolish and stupid--"

"Castiel, stop it," Balthazar placed his hand over Castiel's, "You _are_ worth saving. If you don't think you are, then what does that make me?" Balthazar quirked a smile.

"I didn't mean that I just..."

"I know. I guess I'll have to forgive you. _This_ time." Balthazar stretched out his wings and leans back in the chair.

"Good." Castiel smiled, then playfully punched his friend. He pushed away his worry of the future and focused on the bliss of the moment.

\---

Dean downed a cup of straight black coffee before grabbing his keys and heading to unlock the door.

"You seem a little frazzled, kid." Dorothy said, leaning against the wall.

Dean raised an eyebrow at that. "Kid? I'm older than you are, Dor, get it right." He huffed.

Dorothy pierced him with a knowing gaze. "Don't change the subject. You are far too good at changing subjects." She chastised.

Dean sighed, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm just a little at my wits end with Cas. I don't know how to make him understand that he's not… that he doesn't need to do certain things anymore." Dean sighed.

Dorothy narrowed her eyes. "What _certain_ things does he need to stop doing?" She asked.

"He needs to stop trying to jump my dick because he thinks I'll like, abandon him otherwise or something. I don't know what's going on in his head, but he's so desperate to be a good slave or whatever it's kinda freaking me out." Dean admitted.

Dorothy nodded, then shrugged. "Maybe you've got it backwards. Maybe he actually wants to fuck you. You are a rather attractive man, Dean Winchester. Didn't you tell him he could do what he wanted around you guys? Well, maybe you’re what he wants." She sniggered.

Dean blanched, turning away. He couldn't even let himself think that way. "I doubt it, and you shouldn’t joke around like that. The guy doesn't understand consent yet, Dorothy. Besides, the last thing he needs is some sort of fucked up relationship with someone like me. Just—just forget about it, and go call the wall guard and ask what times in the next year will be the cheapest to cross, okay?"

"Fine, fine. Just remember, there's a fine line between lust and bullshit." She called behind her as she walked away. Dean shook his head, unlocking the door and calling down into the dark.

"Rise and shine, guys! There's some other angels up here, omegas, but they aren't for you to, like, do whatever alphas do. Play nice, mkay? You guys aren't animals, you can control yourselves just fine, am I right?"

There was a call of agreement, and the alphas were filling up.

They headed into the main room, where Cas and Balthazar were already sitting at the breakfast table. They both tensed upon seeing and smelling the alphas. There was an awkward silence, before Inias walked forward, and took his seat. He smiled at Balthazar.

 

"I think your wings are bigger than mine!" He laughed, shaking out one of his ash colored wings to empathize. Balthazar grinned, shifting in his seat. The tension broke, and angels started taking their seats.

"Everyone, this is Castiel and Balthazar. Cas, Balthazar, this is Inais, and Michael, and--"

But Dean was cut off. Michael rose from his seat, face pale, staring at Castiel. "Cassie?" He whispered, as if he hardly dared to believe it. Cas blinked, staring up at the alpha for a moment, before recognition dawned on his face.

"M-Michael?" He gasped, jumping up.

Dean and Benny exchanged a look, and Balthazar still had bacon hanging out of his mouth.  
Nobody did anything for a moment, then Castiel threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Michael. Michael lifted him up, wings fluttering in joy.

He set Cas back down after a minute, tears in those great big green eyes as he looked over the other angel.

"I've missed you so much, little brother." He whispered.

Dean felt like he'd been smacked in the face with a brick. "L-little brother?" he exclaimed. They both nodded, not taking their eyes off each other. 

"Why are you here? Did - did Mother sell you too? I never thought she would sell any of you! Is that why Lucifer is here too?" Cas exclaimed, confusion and awe written on his face.

“You saw Lucifer?” Michael’s eyes flashed with something that Dean could not read. 

Castiel’s face faltered a bit. “Y-yes, it had been about a decade or so ago but, I saw him.” 

Michael nodded, taking in the information. "To answer your question: no. She sold Anna, Samandriel, and Gabriel. Him and I were next, but--"

Castiel's eyes widened. "They–oh god--" He ran his hands through his hair in distress.

Michael shushed him, smiling. "It's alright, I came down here myself to get you all back. I'd just managed to sneak Gabriel over the border just before I was caught. Before I could find you. I was so worried—I was always worried about you the most. You are an omega after all…oh god, Cassie, the things they must have done…" Michael looked sorrowful, and he reached out to cup Castiel's cheek. Suddenly, Castiel's face crumpled, and he pulled away, wrapping his arms around himself, wings dropping in submission.

"Y-you shouldn't touch me - I’m not - I'm sorry. You – you should have gone over the border with Gabe, you shouldn't have stayed for me, I'm sorry…." He said shaking his head and digging his nails into his own skin.

Benny ushered all the other angels up. "Go eat your breakfast in the garage, leave them alone for a while." He whispered, leading them out. Dean was grateful.

Balthazar glanced at him with wide, worried eyes. All he could do was nod.

"Why? Of course I stayed for you, I love you, Castiel. I would never leave you voluntarily." Michael exclaimed.

Castiel shook his head. "No, you don't love me! You love the person I used to be. You loved your little brother. And you know what? Your little brother is gone. All that's left is an omega whore who can't even be an omega right. All I do is ruin things, don't you people understand that? Dean sure doesn't, he won't even let me prove to him that I was worth buying, Balthazar doesn't know some of the things I do, and you barely know me at all now! Do not say you love me when you could not possibly understand who I am!" Castiel seethed, sitting down in the chair and smoothing a hand over his trembling feathers.

There was silence, and Dean felt like his head was going to roll off his shoulders. "I wish you'd stop treating us like all the people who hurt you, when we are the only ones who haven't." He whispered.

Castiel went very still at that, and put his head in his hands. "Mas-Master, I'm sorry, I--"

"It's _Dean_ , and you don't have to be sorry. Just—just eat your breakfast and spend some time with Balthazar and Michael. Mike, you've got the day off. I'll come back in 'round lunchtime, but call me if you need me for anything." Dean said, then hurried out to the garage.

He certainly had his hands full, and not of what he wished they were full of—he shook those thoughts away. Truth be told, this morning's incident had shaken him more than he let on.

 _God_ , he wanted that angel. The way the light caught those soft looking wings—those plump lips, the way he cocked his head and crinkled his nose and the lines of his hips and _fuck I’m no better than any of those men that had hurt him._

Dean leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. No, he was better than all those men. He wouldn't hurt Castiel, ever. He wouldn't even allow himself to get close to the idea of hurting Cas. That meant keeping things strictly friendly between them, at all times. Cas – he just – he was too screwed up in the head by all that shit to be intimate with anyone anyway, honestly, especially not Dean. All in all, the angel was out of bounds, physically and emotionally.

Dean headed over to where Benny was standing, wishing he couldn't feel a damn thing.

\---

"Castiel, why don't we sit down? We have a lot to talk about." Michael ushered his younger brother to the two nearest chairs, and Castiel slowly sat in one. "Listen, I—I can't even imagine what you had to—what you've gone through and I'm – I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you. I--" Michael ran his hand over his face, and Castiel could tell he was withholding tears, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I couldn't—I couldn't get to you fast enough."

"Michael, it wasn't--" Castiel started, "it wasn't your fault," he said quietly, "you've done so much for me already; I don't think you could possibly do anything else. You... you'd get beaten... because of me. And for what? I-I'm wrong and I... I don't act properly l-like I should and--"

"Castiel," Michael cut him off, causing him to go still under his tone, "anything and everything that I have gone through for you was worth it. Although, I didn't do good enough. If I did I... you would be safe, back in the North, not down here and..." Michael trailed off, looking down to his feet with a frown. Castiel could see how much his brother has aged, and how the South had taken its toll on him.

Michael took a deep breath and sat up straight in his chair, readjusting his dirty tawny wings and he looked Castiel in the face. "When I learned she had sold you, I was afraid for you, that you'd turn into the submissive puppet that the South finds proper for omegas. But you, you didn't let them change your spirit.

"You're not broken, Castiel. You are strong, and you care. This side of the Wall, it's just about every angel for themselves. We all have our own problems that we tend to put first, but by the way you and that other omega are, I can tell you two are close."

Castiel contemplated Michael's words for a moment. "Balthazar and I are close. He's like a brother to me," Castiel looked down at his anxious hands and smiled at the thought of his friend, "But, what do you mean?"

"What do I mean about what?"

"That... that I'm 'not broken'. Omegas _are_ submissive, or, are supposed to; to depend completely on their mate or master--"

"They are."

Castiel looked up at Michael, confused. Had he not just said that this was not the proper way?

"What I mean is that it is in an omega's nature to seek the protection of one stronger than them, but personality varies between angels, or course." Michael explained. Castiel was still looking at him with a skeptical look, but didn't say anything. Looking down, he tried to think of when he felt dependent.

He was when he was a child, before he was sold. He remembered clinging to his siblings almost every waking moment. But after he was sold? He couldn't think of a single time he sought out his masters in such a way Michael was meaning. There had been Gran, but he didn’t feel the way Michael was insinuating towards her. In his mind, they were all his former captors that tortured his heavy soul and dangled it as if it were hanging on a thread. If the thread broke, his existence would be no more. Then Dean came and cut that thread, catching him before death had enough time to claim his damned soul.

Now that he thought about it, a small dependency was starting to form towards the man. Castiel was looking to him to protect him, to hold him when nightmares invaded his mind. How could he let Dean sneak in like that? He had only been saved by him a few days ago. _Saved by him._ Castiel figured that was enough of a reason but... he didn't _want_ to be dependent. Dependence meant he couldn't take care of himself. _"But you can't, can you, Castiel?”_ He didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Don't worry, Castiel. Dean is a great man. He sees you as a person, and will not bring you harm. It's shocking that he and his dad are even related." Michael said.

"I've heard about him, briefly."

"The man's a real slave owner, I can tell you that much. I hope you never have to meet him, but if you're living with Dean, it will happen eventually. Just—keep low."

Castiel nodded. He was in no rush to meet the man, if what he has heard is true.

"Thankfully, he doesn't come around often. Dean and Benny practically run the place, and they do the best they can to benefit our needs. The South needs more men like them."

"Balthazar's safe with Benny then?"

"Yeah, he is." Michael grinned. "Castiel, I am very glad you are alive, and even more so that I know you will be going back home."

Castiel wasn't entirely sure what he meant at first, until he did. 

_North._

\---

The day went quickly, and soon he was locking up the shop and letting the angels downstairs.

"Hey, Dean, how about you take Bal with you so they can have a little sleepover?" Benny suggested. Castiel whirled around, wings perking up at the idea.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, sure, if they want to."

Balthazar slung an arm over Dean's shoulder. "I think I'm going to like you." Dean gave him a small look of surprise. He was definitely more chipper than he was yesterday.

The next thing Dean knew, Castiel was dragging Balthazar to the Impala. “Don’t bother him.” Cas scolded.

“Oh c’mon, I was just having a bit of fun.” Balthazar whined as he was being dragged off. 

Dean couldn’t help but grin at the angels. It was strange, really; they were so different, yet seemed so similar at the same time. 

They bade Benny, Dorothy and the other angels goodbye before making their way back home. Dean smiled to himself as he watched Balthazar fuss over Castiel's wings.

"You've let them go all awry. Cas, we've talked about this!" Balthazar muttered, running his fingers through some mussed up feathers. Castiel spent the entire time either hissing, giggling or letting out rather obscene moans that made Dean's face heat up and Balthazar laugh. Long story short, by the time they got to the apartment, Castiel's wings were in good order and Dean was trying to envision dead kittens to kill the hardness in his pants. There must be rips in the steering wheel cover where he dug his fingers in to contain himself.

He felt a stab of jealousy. _He_ wanted to be the one to run his hands through those feathers and make Cas go to jelly and elicit those wonderful sounds. But he couldn't, he never could.

"You two can either sleep in Cas' bed or in the living room, it's up to you. In fact, I could go stay at Sam and Jess' place for the night if you want some alone time, you know, human free and all that." Dean said, unlocking the door and letting them in. Castiel opened his mouth, probably to insist it was fine for Dean to hang around, but Balthazar cut him off.

"That would be nice, if you'd please. Me and Cassie here have an awful lot of catching up to do, and with all this emotional excitement, it's for the best, don't you think?" He said sweetly, flashing a huge smile. Castiel blinked, but didn't protest, and Dean shrugged.

"Well then, there's leftover pizza in the fridge and extra blankets and pillows in the closet. I guess I'll be on my way..." he said, then made a beeline for the door to the other apartment. 

 

The door shut, and Balthazar and Castiel looked at it for a few moments before Balthazar spoke up, "We're home alone."

"Yes... we are."

"Now we must set booby traps all around the apartment to stop the burglars that are want to kill us." Balthazar said with a smirk.

 _Why are there burglars trying to kill us? What did we do? What do they want? Why is Balthazar_ happy _about this?_

Balthazar chuckled, "Oh Cassie, if only you could see the look on your face right now!"

" _What?_ " Castiel asked with deep concern, if not fear.

"No no it's—it's a movie reference. You know, _Home Alone_ , the parents, they forget the kid and-- oh, you don't know."

"Why would one even watch such a thing? That do not sound like a good movie." Castiel said seriously.

"Well it—oh," Balthazar scratched his chin, "you're right. Actually, it's horrible, now that I think about it." Castiel nodded in agreement to that statement. "I found it a rather funny movie at one point of my life. That was until I knew life for what it really is." Both omegas exchanged a knowing glance and stood in silence.

"Uh- _huh._ " Balthazar said as he ruffled his feathers. "Well, Dean said there was pizza in the refrigerator. Shall we?"

"Y-yeah." Castiel cleared his throat. They creeped their way to the fridge and hesitated a few seconds before Castiel grabbed the handle and opened it gently. He might have had been given free reign of the apartment, but this freedom was still all new, and he tiptoed around it with careful feet.

Balthazar grabbed the leftover pizza and placed the box on the counter, opening it as Castiel closed the fridge. "Mmm, Cassie," Balthazar said with a mouthful of pizza, "so good."

"You should eat slower." Castiel said and he grabbed himself a slice. But it was as Balthazar said. _So good._

"I suppose you're right." Balthazar swallowed his last bit of pizza.

"It's not going anywhere." Castiel understood Balthazar's haste. From eating close to nothing to as much as he wants whenever he wants was overwhelming. Castiel himself was still trying to become accustomed to this new lifestyle. He hasn't been beaten or fucked for just about a week already, and that in itself was a vast change, never mind the food.

Balthazar grabbed another piece, "We can eat all of this, right?"

"Yes, I believe so. Dean encourages that I eat as much as I want. We could probably eat everything in the fridge if we wanted."

Balthazar's eyes gleamed at the thought. "As tempting as that sounds, I'll have to postpone that for another day. I am so full." He let out a loud belch. "Ugh, I think I ate too fast." On the corners of his mouth was remnants of the pizza he had just devoured.

"How many pieces did you eat?" Castiel questioned.

"Three. Oh, but they were _so_ good." Balthazar sighed with contentment.

"I can tell. Here, you have a bit right..." Castiel licked his thumb and rubbed the sauce and crumbs from the corners of Balthazar's mouth. "There."

"Heh. Thank you, Cassie. Always looking out for me." Balthazar smiled.

"Of course. You'd be a mess without me."

"Same goes for you." They shared a fond smile. "Here, eat the last slice." Balthazar grabbed it and brought the pizza slice in front of Castiel's mouth. "Say 'aaaah'."

"Aaaaah." Castiel opened his mouth and bit off a delicious bite and grinned, pizza sauce plastered all over his teeth.

"Just eat it already, you look foolish!" Balthazar said. Castiel chewed it and swallowed, then grabbed the rest of the piece from Balthazar and took another bite.

"It's nice to have a full stomach for once, isn't it?" Balthazar asked.

Castiel finished off the remains of his supper and licked the grease and crumbs from his slender fingers. "It is," he mused, "although, I tend to become sleepy afterwards."

"Ah yes, same goes for me." Balthazar gave his belly a pat, "What do humans do when they have a house to themselves? Throw a party?"

"Perhaps, but I find that idea unwise. We don't have any friends to invite, and that - that's not something I'm really interested in partaking in."

"Well, how about we have a party anyway, just you and me, hmm?" Balthazar nudged his arm, "Oh c'mon, it will be fun!"

Castiel gave in, "What would we do?"

"I don't know... we could snoop! See if your master's hiding anything secretive. Think he has the place set up with cameras?" Balthazar looked to the walls.

"That is very invasive. We have no right to do such a thing." Castiel scanned the walls as well. From what he could tell from the few days he had been here, he had seen no trace of and cameras, hidden or otherwise. Although, he could be very wrong. Dean didn't seem to be the type to keep such things, atleast, that's what he figured. "How about we watch something on the television. We are permitted to do that."

"Hmm, yes! Do you have pajamas?"

"What?"

"Pajamas. Did Dean give you any?"

"Yes, well, no. His brother's girlfriend, Jess, bought be some clothing, including pajamas."

"Did she... buy you more than one pair?" Balthazar hinted.

"Yes, Balthazar, she did. Would you like to wear one?" Castiel asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Why yes! Thank you for offering!" Balthazar went to walk away, then stopped, "Wait, where is your room."

"Here, follow me." Castiel led the way from the kitchen to his room.

"Ah, you got a big bed!" Balthazar plopped himself down onto in. "And it's a comfy one too." He bounced on it.

"Stop that and come get your pajamas." Castiel said with them folded in his hands. When Balthazar didn't come, he threw the clothes at his friend's face.

"Hey!" Balthazar shouted and fluttered his colorful wings in surprise, then took the pajamas into his hands. "Wow, they're so soft."

"I know," Castiel agreed. Balthazar stood up and pulled off his pants, kicking them off without a hint of grace when they caught around his ankles. His bare legs were hairless, as an omega’s generally is, but covered in bruises of many different colors, differing on the age of each and everyone. Castiel could probably name the day that Balthazar received each new shade, and he could do the same with Castiel.

Castiel followed Balthazar's act, except gave his legs more of a gentle shake when they reached his ankles.

"Unbutton me?" Balthazar turned his back to Castiel and raised his wings so Castiel could get to the buttons below the base of his wings. The shirt was well worn, one they shared amongst themselves back at the pleasure house.

"Thank you." Balthazar pulled it over his head and threw it on the floor.

Castiel winced, "Those look fairly new." he said as he glanced over Balthazar's bare skin, marred with bruises, welts, and cuts.

Balthazar look down, "Ha, yeah. When they told me what Zachariah did to you—what he was _planning_ on doing to you, I got mouthy and a bit physical."

Castiel grimaced, "I'm a bad influence on you, aren't I?"

"The worst!" Balthazar smiled, "They said you were dead and I-I, I just snapped. Castiel, I don't know what I'd do without you. I care for you."

"I care for you too, but even if I were dead, you'd still go on and live for me, would you?" Balthazar's face faltered and he looked to his feet, silent, and it worried Castiel. "Promise me, if anything happens to me, you will live on, for the both of us." He grabbed Balthazar's hands and held them in his.

Looking into Castiel's eyes, Balthazar said, "I-I don't know if I can but, I would try, for you." He smiled a broken smile for his friend.

Castiel embraced him in a gentle hug, careful now to watch for his chest. "Good." He hid his face into Balthazar's neck, whom did the same action.

"Will... would you do that same for me?" Balthazar's voice was as quiet as a whisper.

"Yes, I would." Castiel would get his vocal cords cut and let them turn him blind if it meant Balthazar would be safe. He would do anything for him, even if that meant getting his wings ripped from his body. Anything for him.

Balthazar and Castiel slowly let go of each other, both angels a bit teary-eyed. Castiel reached down towards the bed and grabbed Balthazar's soft pajama shirt and helped him pull it over his head, then buttoned up the buttons below his beautiful, unique wings. Balthazar turned around to grab his pants and met eyes with Castiel. He didn't say 'thank you' verbally, but the look in his eyes said enough.

As he finished dressing, Castiel went ahead a did the same with ease.

"Zachariah sure got you good." Balthazar said.

Castiel looked to him, then himself. "I suppose I got off easy for biting a man's testicles off."

Balthazar gasped as he walked over to button the back of Castiel's shirt. "So it _is_ true! That was ballsy of you."

Castiel scoffed, "I heard that one already."

"What, really? Damn." Balthazar said as he buttoned the last one. "Pray tell who stole my god-awful pun."

"A government woman named Pamela." Balthazar eyed Castiel with curiosity, so he carried on the story. "My last client, he was a government worker and he decided to change my collar. He forced me to wear one two sizes less than what I am."

"That couldn't have been pleasant at all. No wonder you snapped. The man truly deserved it though."

"It wasn't the brightest thing I have done, but yeah, I suppose he did deserve it. With the pain and panic he was in, he didn't have enough time to change it back. Part of me wonders if he even would have if I hadn't tried anything." Castiel's hand went to where that collar had once been placed, tracing over the bandage with his fingers.

"I'm sure Zachariah would have made him switch it back. It's illegal otherwise."

"That may be, but when it comes to an angel's well being, they aren't quick to jump. And Zachariah chained and beat me in the yard full well knowing it was tight enough to cut into skin. Anyway, Dean bought me then called Pamela over to change it."

"Looks like that one’s been through the blender." Balthazar said as he took a closer look at the collar around Castiel's neck, examining it. 

"Who knows, maybe it was." Castiel hoped not. “It’s much less irritating, though the thoughts of whoever wore it before me are a bit unsettling.” Who knew how they came to passing.

"Hey, Cassie," Balthazar looked at him weary eyed, "I'm tired do you think... we can go to bed now?"

"Yes, of course." Castiel went for the light as Balthazar made his way to one side of the bed and crawled under the covers. The room went dark, and Castiel curled up beside Balthazar, who quickly went for Castiel's hands and entwined his fingers with his.

"Truthfully Cassie I'm—I'm scared." Balthazar said in a hushed tone.

"How come?" There was much they feared, but for Balthazar to bring it up...

" _This_. This sudden freedom from being a slave it... it scares me. I'm scared that I'll become too comfortable with this life, with these people, and then it'll it ripped from under me in a flash. I couldn't–I couldn't handle that. Not again."

Castiel frowned. He shared the same feeling.

"Do you feel that way too, Cassie?"

"... Yes." He admitted. Castiel was supposed to be strong, to support his friend but, he could feel his walks begin to falter.

"What if we become too much of a nuisance and they decide to sell us back, or to some other master. Castiel I-I-I couldn't do it!" Balthazar moved closer to Castiel and buried his face into his chest and he let out a sob. Castiel held him close and ran a hand through Balthazar's hair.

"I promised Dean that if you're hurt—if you're sold, I will make them pay."

"Y-y-you didn't." Balthazar said with a broken voice.

"I did." Castiel continued to run his hand through Balthazar's hair.

"Oh... thanks I-I guess." Balthazar mumbled into Castiel's chest, to which Castiel placed a kiss on the top of his head.

"I would risk everything for you."

"I know."


	6. Two Steps Backwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear, I'll give you sixty seconds to disappear  
> And if you don't get out of here... who knows?  
> 'Cause I've been trying to find out if an angel bends or breaks  
> Or shatters like a stone  
> \- Josh Woodward 'I Want To Destroy Something Beautiful'

"So, Michael's his brother?" Sam asked as he scrubbed the dishes.

Dean nodded from his place at the table next to Jess. "And Cas had a total break down when he found out; it was awful. I think Michael and Bal helped him calm down, but….he really has a horrible self-image."

"You know it's bad if it's coming from Dean." Jess said, blanching.

Dean shot her a look. "I don't have a bad self-image!"

"I have a voice recording of you reciting all the reasons you are, to quote, '90% crap'." Sam deadpanned.

Dean shrugged. "That's just truth, bro. But the trick is the other ten percent being a stand up guy."

Jess shook her head. "So, him and this Balthazar are alone at your apartment? All night? Really?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What's wrong with that? They're best friends." Dean replied.

Jess shrugged. "Did you ever stop to think they might be… more than that? I know a lot of omegas in brothels that form close bonds. It starts with seeking comfort from each other, then evolves into finding shelter in each other from the storm of slavery. Not that there is anything wrong with it, I just thought you should know that."

Dean's mind was suddenly filled with images of Cas and Balthazar… _together_. “Do you really think they’re something like that?” he asked curiously, a sinking feeling slowly building in his chest. “I mean, Cas did say that he was his best friend, and didn’t say anything more than that. I get that they’re close but, _that_ close?”

Jess shrugged. “I guess you’d just have to ask them.” Dean sighed.

“Actually, that brings something to mind…” Jess started again, “I was thinking I could bring them both down to my new clinic for a checkup. Make sure they don't have any infections or anything like that. You'd be disgusted how badly brothels treat the health of their slaves, I mean, you would think that would be top priority." Jess spat.

Sam set tacos down in front of them and took his seat. "Don't you think something invasive like that could wait till they're more settled?" He said. Jess nodded.

"I wish I could just… fix Cas." Dean whispered, poking his taco, disheartened.

Jess laid a hand on his shoulder. "That's the problem that you both have. Castiel isn't _broken_. He's confused, but he's strong. All we need to do is be supportive and considerate, and be there for whatever might need to be done. He will heal."

That night, curled up on his brother's couch, Dean closed his eyes and tried to imagine a Castiel that believed he was worth something. He liked the thought of it, but it also stirred something in him, something long untouched.

Maybe he should take a dose of his own medicine.

\---

Castiel woke to a gentle tickle upon his nose. He scrunched his face, swatting away whatever the source of the itch was. He peeped a sleepy eye open to find it was a feather. _Balthazar,_ he remembered. He was still holding onto Castiel's hand, bringing it closer to his chest as he brought his wings closer to his body.

This moment felt surreal. Them sleeping together, that wasn't a rare occurrence whatsoever, but the fact that they were sleeping together in _safety_. They didn't have to worry about an upcoming session of suffering in Hell as they were in someone else's twisted Heaven, nor did they have to worry about being punished for spending time together in such a close position.

He wanted to stay like this forever, just him and Balthazar, but he knew that couldn't be so; he had to get up eventually and return to Dean, and shower him with thanks for this time he had given to him and Balthazar.

His best friend had woken abruptly in the middle of the night from a nightmare, and both were more than happy that Castiel was there. After some cuddling, Balthazar had fallen into a peaceful sleep, and still seemed to be in the same state. Castiel watched him as he slept, remembering when they first met, well, when they first _really_ met.

Castiel had first saw him from his cell, watching as the guards dragged in a new omega, and from the fire in his eyes, Castiel knew that he hadn't been a slave before this; it was an observation that wasn't hard to tell. He remembered that Balthazar had tried to fight against their grip and the chain that tugged at his collar, but it was useless.

He had truly met Balthazar a day or two after he arrived. He was thrown in a cell just beside Castiel. Unlike some of the other cell blocks, the angels were capable to move cell-to-cell. Right when the guards had left, Castiel made his way to the new slave.

Balthazar had been a shaking, filthy mess, and had backed away when Castiel approached him. "N-no," he had said in such a quiet, broken voice that it was hard to make out, but Castiel knew. He gave the fearful angel a gentle hush and began to hum a song that had once been used to sing him to sleep.

"Shhh, it's alright," he had said as he knelt beside the angel and brought him into an embrace when he noticed that Castiel was akin to him. He had clung to Castiel so desperately, and sobbed into the old shirt the covered Castiel's chest.

"What's your name?" Castiel had asked gently.

"...B-Baltha...zar," Balthazar had said quietly. Castiel stroked his hair carefully and looked over his naked body. He had been in the same position as Balthazar once had, and no one came to comfort him, no one to clean him up. He had been alone.

It had always hurt Castiel to see them like this, all beaten and broken. He held a deep hatred towards Zachariah. Sure, he had a full right to do what he pleased with his slaves, but that didn't make Castiel hate him any less for the things he's done and had let be done to the things he owned.

Castiel had grabbed a small rag that he had carried at the hem of his pants and wet it in the bowl of water that had been provided for Balthazar. With care and gentleness, he had washed away any filth that had covered Balthazar's skin, and had slowly moved him onto the dirty cot that had laid against the wall. After that first time, Balthazar came to Castiel's aid when needed.

Balthazar began to shift in his sleep, pulling Castiel away from his thoughts of the past. Balthazar's eyes shot open in fear, but calmed when he saw Castiel lying beside him.

"Morning," Castiel said, eyes smiling at his best friend.

Balthazar replied with a mixture of mumbles and grumbles, "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Maybe."

"How long?" Balthazar ran a hand across his face in a lazy manner.

"Who knows," Castiel stated. "Come, let's get up now."

Balthazar rolled over until the digital alarm clock was in his line of sight. "Ugh, it's 6:07, Cassie. Can't we sleep a little longer? It's not like we have to _serve_."

"That may be so, but we should be ready for when Dean returns."

"You have a point." Balthazar yawned, then pulled the blanket off of himself and climbed out of the bed as Castiel did the same.

Both omegas grabbed their clothes for the day, Balthazar with the ones he wore the day before and Castiel with the same jeans, but a different shirt. While Castiel folded his and Balthazar's nightclothes, Balthazar made the bed.

With a spring in his step, Balthazar followed Castiel to the bathroom. Under the sink, Castiel grabbed a clean cloth and threw it at Balthazar. "Wash your face; you have dried drool on your cheek."

Balthazar looked at himself in the mirror and put a hand to his cheek, "Huh." He turned on the faucet and held the cloth under the water until it was cool and damp, then washed his face with it. "Here, Cassie come here you got a little..." Castiel walked up to Balthazar, who then took the cloth and sloppily smothered Castiel's face with it.

"Hey!" Castiel pushed at Balthazar, who was chuckling playfully. Castiel looked at himself in the mirror, "My face is fine."

"Are you sure?"

Castiel shot Balthazar a look and shoved at him again, walking passed him as he left the bathroom. "Don't leave me!" Balthazar called after him and followed him to the kitchen.

Castiel opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "Shall we have eggs for breakfast?" He asked Balthazar as he held the egg carton.

"Breakfast," Balthazar said dreamily and smiled, "Are we not eating at Dean and Benny's workplace?"

"We may have yesterday, but I think we should leave the food there for the alphas."

Balthazar nodded in agreement and took the eggs from Castiel. "I shall make you the best eggs you have ever tasted!" Balthazar announced as he placed the carton on the counter, then searched the cupboards and drawers until he found a frying pan. "It may have be a while since I cooked anything like this, but believe me, I cook _marvelous_ eggs."

"We'll see about that," Castiel muttered.

"You don't believe me? Fine, I'll just have to prove it to you." Balthazar put a small amount of butter into the frying pan and turned on the stove. Castiel gave Balthazar his space and watched him contently.

He tried to remember the first time he ever cooked. He wasn't entirely sure if he had before he was sold to the South, but he did remember baking cookies along with everything else with Gran, or old Jane Winters as others might have called her. She was Castiel's old mistress, but she was more like a grandmother than anything to him.

"Do you need any help?" Castiel asked.

"No thanks, Cassie, I got this." Balthazar smiled over his shoulder as he cracked an egg into the sizzling pan. Not long after, Castiel could smell the scent of fried eggs in the air. "Do you want some salt on yours?"

"Uh--"

"Yes, you do." Balthazar answered for him and sprinkled a bit on top of the eggs. Castiel trusted that Balthazar knew what he was doing.

The front door opened, and Castiel could hear the noise of keys and plastic bags chime in the rhythm of approaching footsteps.

"Hey Dean, it’s just me. I came to drop off a few thi--" Castiel was staring in surprise as a middle-aged woman with blonde hair walked into the kitchen. She was staring back at him with equal surprise. "I... uh..." The woman struggled to say, "Why are you..." She looked to Balthazar, whom was just putting the eggs onto their individual plates. Balthazar looked from Castiel to the stranger.

The woman put the bags down on the floor gently, still keeping eye contact with Castiel. "I'm-- I..." She looked at Castiel and Balthazar from head to toe, "Why are you here?" she finally managed to ask.

"I... live here." Castiel said carefully. The three stood silently for a few moments.

"Huh." The woman turned and walked out the door, just like that. The angels exchanged a confused look.

"What was that all about?" Balthazar asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know." Castiel said with honesty. He supposed that Dean knew the woman; she had a key to his apartment after all. He would have to ask him when he returned, whenever that would be.

"Come, eat up before it gets cold!" Balthazar pulled Castiel by the arm to the small table and sat him down in front of his plate. It appeared to be good. "Go on, try it!" Castiel lifted the fork that Balthazar had placed beside the plate and cut off a bit of egg.

Castiel's eyes lit up, "It's good."

Balthazar chuckled, "I still got it." Both were too busy eating their breakfast to keep up any conversation.

"You should work at a restaurant." Castiel finally said when he had only a little bit left on his dish.

"I think I'd like that," Balthazar smiled, but it soon turned into a sad one, "Nobody would want an omega chef though, since we're _'only good for one thing'_." he said bitterly and sighed.

"If you weren't an omega, or an angel even, what would you want to be?" Castiel asked curiously.

Balthazar sat there for a moment, thinking, "Well, I'd like to be rich, first off. Get some fancy car imported from a foreign country,"

"Just one?"

Balthazar grinned, "Okay, maybe two."

"How would you obtain such a large quantity of money?"

"I would be one of the world's greatest chefs! I would cook for the important and rich, maybe even kings and queens." Both angels smiled at the idea. "If only," Balthazar muttered under his breath before picking up their empty dishes and carrying them to the sink.

The door that adjoined the two apartments opened and Dean walked in, and seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. "Oh good, you guys are awake. I gotta go to work, so let's go." Dean rushed to the door with the angels trying to keep up.

"But... I haven't washed the dishes yet," Balthazar said hesitantly.

"Don't worry about them, I'll wash 'em later. You guys just have to get your shoes on, then we need to get going." Dean waited for them at the door as they hurried to put their shoes on. Soon, they were out the door and sitting in the back of Dean's car.

Dean seemed rather frazzled. Castiel wondered if he was late for work, or maybe something happened at work. Maybe it had something to do with that woman.

Oh right, the woman.

"Dean, this morning there was--"

"I'm sorry Cas, but can it _wait_ until I have my coffee?" Dean said sharply. He mumbled something else, but Castiel couldn't make it out.

Castiel quickly fell silent and let Dean drive, looking out the window as he whizzed past the other cars that he was suppose to be sharing the road with. He was acting like he owned the damn thing. He must be _really_ on edge or... _maybe he's had enough of me already. I suppose I am troublesome to have around._ Balthazar lent out a hand and grabbed Castiel's, giving it a small squeeze and brushed his wing against his to let him know that he's there. Balthazar gave him a look that said, 'Dean's probably just having a bad morning.' Maybe that was all this was.

Castiel didn't know much about driving, but he knew enough the Dean was definitely speeding. It was a wonder how no police were around to stop him. He knew police became very serious when it came to the safety of humans.

But thanks to Dean's reckless speed, the trip to the garage was a quick one. "C'mon," Dean said as he unbuckled and got out of the car. Both angels followed as quickly as they could as Dean headed to the head office. He swung the door open and they were greeted by Dorothy.

"Hey, umm you two, I think you should wait--"

Dorothy was cut off by another man's voice, "Dean, 'that you?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm here." Dean replied. Castiel tensed. _Dean's dad?_ Michael had warned him about hs father. Dean himself seemed a bit wary of the man.

Dean walked around the corner where John must have been.

"Your mom says you got _omegas_ living at your—hey, is that one right there?"

Castiel suddenly felt eyes on him. His wing must have been visible around the corner. As he pulled his wings tight behind his back, Dean sighed, "Yeah. Cas, come here." Slowly, Castiel emerged from around the corner and slowly gazed up at John. He found a few similarities between Dean and John, though not many. The look in his eyes... "I... only have one, Castiel. Benny has the other."

"Is that so?" John asked as he looked Castiel up and down. He hated just standing there as the man's gaze pierced his skin. "You two? Owning omegas? I never would have thought it'd happen."

"Me neither." Dean gritted through a forced smile. "Wait, Cas, why didn't you tell me my mom stopped by?" Dean turned towards him.

His heart began to race, overwhelmed from the sudden feeling that he was being cornered and about to be pounced on. "I-I--" he stuttered, trying to back away.

"C'mere," John grabbed a hold of Castiel's arm and yanked him close, with his winged back against John's chest, "Lemme see what my son has come into possession of." He dug one hand into the feathers of one of Castiel's delicate wings while the other grabbed at the omega's crotch with a tight hold. Castiel let out a strangled noise of surprise and anger, and his immediate reaction to the molestation was to throw back his head with force, meeting John's face. John released his hold on Castiel and shuffled backwards, holding his chin in shock at the unexpected reaction.

" _Dad!_ " Dean scolded, stomping over towards John, "You don't just – _do_ that!" Dean turned to Castiel with a sorry look on his face, "Cas I'm–I'm sorry about that I—I'm gonna--"

"Castiel why don't you join Balthazar and myself in the other room—give them time to talk." Dorothy said behind him with a quiet voice. Castiel looked to the two men once again before agreeing — the sheer anger in John's eyes made Castiel wish he had let him do as he pleased to his body. With a shaky breath, Castiel nodded at Dorothy and followed her, getting further away from Dean and his father.

\---

Dean stared at his father, appalled at his actions. He knew his father was a slavery supporter, and he could be a little crude, but this was the man that had taught him how to drive, how to fix cars, the husband of the woman who sang him to sleep and baked him pies. Sometimes he couldn't wrap his head around how his father could be a stand-up guy to most people and a complete douchebag to angels. He didn't understand why his mother just went along with it, and whenever slavery came up she would just shrug and smile and say _that's the way it is, the way it's always been. It's just nature._

"Dean Winchester, you better teach that omega of yours some damn manners or I will! Did you see what that scum just did!" He exclaimed.

Dean's jaw tightened, and he squared his shoulders. "Yeah, Dad, I saw what just happened. You just groped him, you racist idiot. You can't just go around grabbing people's junk! Especially not omegas who've spent their whole lives fighting against people like you. I honestly can't fuckin' believe you sometimes!" He snarled.

His father's face turned red. "They aren't people, Dean! They're angels! They ain't even human, and they're programmed in their damn genetic code to do whatever they’re presented, and what their masters want. That omega's got one of them behavioral diseases, I tell you! He's wrong in the head! He's a menace, you should have him put down! Real shame, I'd love a piece of that ass. But a dirty little deceased animal needs to be taken care of, and then burned to ashes!"

Dean shook his head, hands curling into fists. "If you _ever_ touch him—any of them—again, I will tell Mom all about that time I went with you on one of your 'business' trips. And don't you dare mention being euthanized around him, either." Dean said lowly, looking his father straight in the eye.

John went a little pale, and some of the tension left his body. He studied Dean, who could see the gears whirling in his head. There was a long moment of silence, before his father's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I'm sorry, son. I just – I don't know why I get like I get. Must be my old man rubbin' off on me. You know I ain't an asshole. Although, that omega does seem a bit out of it, I'm just saying, might wanna watch him. You and I both know what happens to omegas who fight against their instincts, they go stark raving mad and blow their head off."

Dean's blood ran cold. "Don't ever talk about that. You have no right to fucking talk about that." He sighed, rubbing his temples. He had to make sure his father left Cas and Balthazar alone. "Look at it this way, Dad. Castiel is _mine_. No matter what my political views on the matter may be, I own him, and he is my property by Southern Law. I am his master. _Me._ And you–someone he doesn't know, who has no right to touch him without the permission of his master—groped and practically assaulted him. His omega instincts, as you may call it, lashed out, to stay loyal to his master. And I am not one to share. Neither is Benny.

"You will not touch what is mine. You will not harass what is mine. You will not make what is mine uncomfortable, in any matter, ever. Same goes for what is Benny's." He said sternly, trying to drive it into his head. God, those words _mine_ and _property_ and _master_ tasted bitter on his tongue, but he had to speak to his father in his own language, for the sake of Castiel and Balthazar's safety, because he doubted this would be the last time they encountered John.

John raised an eyebrow. "I… didn't think of that. I'm sorry for crossing that boundary, son. And in that case, that Castiel of yours was in the right to react that way, I suppose. I guess I owe it an apology, eh? What's say you and your angel come 'round for dinner tonight—your mother's been missing you, son. I promise, I'll behave. I can compromise, Dean, I'm not a Neanderthal."

Dean relaxed at his father's apology. He bit his lip, considering the offer. He did miss his mother.  
"Yeah, sure, as long as you promise. Now, get out of here old man, I own this place now anyway." He smiled, clapping his father on the shoulder.

John laughed, and let Dean walk him out to the car. "Not in till all the paperwork goes through, son. But I'm proud of you, you've done good. See you and your—and _Castiel_ tomorrow." He caught himself, then drove away. Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and went back inside.

Castiel was sitting behind Dorothy's desk, knees drawn up to his chest, face pale. Balthazar and Dorothy were crouching next to him, and looked up when Dean approached.

Castiel's eyes widened, and he threw himself forwards on his knees. "I-I'm so sorry, Dean, is your father still here? I will apologize immediately, whatever he wishes, I don't mind--"

 _Well, at least he isn't calling me Master anymore._ Dean thought tiredly. He got on his knees and drew Castiel into a hug. "What my father did was out of line, and he understands that now. He says he's very sorry, and has invited us for dinner tonight to make up for it, okay? You were in the right. You didn't know him, and he had no right to just grab you, even in the South. He's just an asshole sometimes, but he does his best to make up for it, I guess. You didn't do a single thing wrong, Cas. I'm so sorry he touched you like that. Do you want to go home, or stay here?" He asked.

Castiel calmed in his arms. "Really? I suppose you’re right… I'd like to stay here, please. We should let my brother and the others out, shouldn't we?" He suggested, letting Dean help him stand.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, when the door swung open to reveal Benny, holding the breakfast boxes.

Benny's smile dropped off his face when he saw their somber, tired expressions. "Did I miss somethin'?"

\---

Michael, having been already informed of what had happened, pulled Dean aside while the others had breakfast, and Benny dished all the angels up with breakfast. "You and I both know John Winchester feels no remorse for the woes of angels. He is not truly sorry. You should not go to that dinner, at least, you shouldn't bring my brother." He said lowly, expression dark.

Dean sighed, "I know, Michael, I was there that night. But I already said yes—and besides, he'd never do anything with my mother there. And I'll be right next to Cas, the entire time. I know what I'm doing."

Michael studied him with hard eyes. "If anything happens to him, it will be on your head." He spat, before whirling around to join the other's for breakfast.

Dean watched him go, the past plaguing his mind.

...

Dean's fifteen, and Sam's twelve, just after Bobby moved away. John just started allowing them to help around the shop. Dean gets to be in charge of the angels, which is a huge things for a teenage boy. Sam tells him not to let it get to his head, that the angels are still people. Dean just shrugs—if they were people, they wouldn't be slaves. It doesn't occur to them that they could be both, that there is something very wrong in this society.

He doesn't find that out until his Dad forgets to give the angels dinner one night, and Sammy convinces him to steal Dad's spare keys and bring them some food. Dean agrees—they have to work in the morning, so they should be well fed, right?

They grab some tacos and head to the shop under the cover of night, and Dean spends a good twenty minutes finding the right key to lead down to the basement, where the angels are. He's never been down here, and to a teenage boy, every shadow is an abyss of equal epicness and terror. Everything seems like the end of the world when you’re young, they say.

They crept down the stairs, and the angels shuffled at the sight of them. The basement was made up of a big open space with a bunch of sleeping mats and blankets and pillows on the floor, and rows of supplies on metal racks and shelves.

"Hey, guys, we brought you some food." Dean held up the bags, veins pumping with a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

All the alphas moved forward, and behind them was a smaller angel, a girl, huddled in blankets. She had a soft face and orangish wings, along with long blonde hair. Her cheek was sprouting a horrible bruise.

An omega.

Sam froze, while Dean handed out tacos. "Who are you?" He asked.

The girl looked up with wide eyes. "M-my name is Muriel, Masters." She replied, bowing her head slightly in submission.

Sam glanced at Dean. "I didn't think my father owned any omegas."

Muriel flinched, and Michael scowled. "I doubt he wants your mother knowing what he gets up to."

Dean blinked at the implication, and opened his mouth. But before he could reply, the sound of a familiar engine made all the alpha's wings flare, and Muriel whimpered.

Michael's eyes flashed, and he stuffed the taco bags under a sleeping mat, and stood. "You do not want your father to find you here, boys. I suggest you hide. No matter what you see, or what you hear, you must not alert him to your presence. Do you understand?" he growled.

Sammy opened his mouth to say something, but Dean could sense the tension in the room. The hairs on the back of his neck raised up, and he dragged Sam with him behind the rows of the supplies, into the shadows. They watched through the gaps in-between cleaning supplies.

A few minutes later, his father barged down the stairs. He waved his hand dismissively. "All you alphas, stick to the other side of the room and stay there, if you know what's good for you." John growled.

They watched as their father approached Muriel, who began to sob. "P-please, Mast--" She started, but a fist to the face sent her sprawling to the ground. Sam tensed next to him, eyes wide. But he didn't say a word. Dean's eyes flicked to Michael, who didn't lower his eyes away from their father. He kept on glaring at his back, resentment and barely contained rage in his eyes.

They all watched as John dragged Muriel towards him by her wings, and ripped her pants off. She struggled, crying, but he flipping her around and wrapped a hand around her throat, and squeezed. Dean jerked, the urge to run forward and scream at his father rippling under his skin. But he contained himself.

His father took his straining cock out of his pants, and knelt down in between Muriel's kicking legs; her face was turning red.

Sam's grip on his hand tightened, and there were tears running down his face. Dean wasn't crying. He couldn't find it in himself to cry. He had no idea what he was feeling—it was like he had this safety bubble of ignorance around him, and had just been ripped away to allow a hurricane to tear at his skin and drown his heart in shock and horror.

John began thrusting, fucking Muriel into the concrete. She screamed in pain, thrashing and begging. Sam flinched with each thrust, and Dean felt like a nail was being driven into his skull.  
After a while, John finished, and came all over her. Then, he stood and tucked himself away. "Stopped cryin' like that, girl. You're an omega, you were made for this. Trust me to get a defective one." He muttered, then went to turn and walk away. Before he could, Muriel lunged upwards, grabbing him with one hand, and digging into his pocket with the other.

Before their father could react properly, Muriel was flicking open the pocket knife and was holding it to her bruising throat. "We are people too. We have souls and minds and opinions and emotions. The North knows that. You live behind walls of lies and selective ignorance, and walk all over your fellow sentient beings with spikes in your shoes. You swim in rivers of our blood and call it _natural_. I hope you all _burn in hell_!" She sobbed, and then slit her own throat. Michael roared and lunged forward to catch her body, the rest of the angels crowding around her and fretting. But she was already dead. Sam's mouth hung open in shock.

Their father stared down at her body for a moment. He was covered in the blood that had sprayed out of her neck. Then, without a word, he smacked the nearest alpha across the face. "Go get me some bleach, and the plastic we use for detailing!" He demanded. The angel scrambled to comply.

John wrapped Muriel's limp body up in some huge plastic, then took a nearby blow torch and held it at a distance. The heat caused the plastic to shrink around her. He then ordered two alphas to take her body to the dumpster out back, and the rest of the alphas to scrub the blood off the floor. Then, their father walked up the stairs like nothing had happened.

They both stayed rooted to the spot, until the angels where done cleaning, and all sat in a huddle, and began to hum lowly, chanting in some language Dean didn't know. Michael stood, and came to find them. He had tears in his hard, angry eyes.

Sam began to cry finally, sobbing loudly, clutching to Dean's arm. Dean just stared up at Michael.

"I'm sorry." Dean said finally. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

Michael looked over him for a second, and his expression softened. He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You are not your father, boys. You should go, and do not breathe a word of this to your family. It will only end in more pain. All I ask, is that you do not forget. Do not forget this night." He sighed.

"I don't think that will be hard." Sam hiccuped.

Dean wrapped an arm around his brother and squeezed, and led him up out of the shadows back into the shop.

That night, they all sat at dinner, and Dean had to leave early to stop from stabbing his fork into their father's hand, the same hand that had strangled Muriel.

It might as well have been that hand that slit her throat, in the end.

...

Dean shook his head, coming back to reality. That night had been the turning point in how he viewed the world, he imagined the same went for Sam. He didn't want to take Cas anywhere near that man again, but he was sure with his mother and him there, nothing would happen. Besides, soon, they'd be in the North, far away from all the blood and the pain that seemed to line the streets of the South.

\---

Dean ran his hand through his hair, satisfied with his appearance, and headed into the living room. "Are you ready, Cas?" He asked the angel sitting on the couch.

He nodded, but didn't look Dean in the eye. The older Winchester bit his lip, and sat down next to him. "I'm so sorry about what happened today. I'm sorry I got you dragged into this dinner—but I promise, I swear on my soul, nothing will happen to you. I'll be with you the whole time, okay? And my mother isn't as much of a douche as my dad is. And there'll be good food, I swear. If anything happens, if they make you uncomfortable or my dad tries to pull some shit, just ask me to leave, and we'll leave, okay? I care more about you than I care about pleasing them." Dean assured him.

Castiel looked up at him, with a small, hesitant smile. "You'd really leave for me?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Of course, buddy. You say the word, we're out of there." Dean said firmly. Castiel nodded, his expression lighter. They stood, and headed downstairs.

Once they were on the road, Dean couldn't stop stealing glances at the angel next to him. He was wearing a plain white button down and slacks. His wings caught the light off the street lamps, gleaming their wonderful, shimmering gold. His crisp shirt brought out the black of his hair and the white in his wings.

Castiel took his breath away, to say the least. The angel was gazing out the window, watching the city roll by with wide blue eyes. He tilted his head as he regarded their surroundings, reminding Dean of a bird. His chest swelled with sudden warmth, and he looked back to the road and clenched his teeth to keep from grinning with the joy the angel summoned up in him out of nowhere.

They pulled into his old home, a two story traditional turn of the century suburban household, white awnings and all. Castiel followed a step behind him as Dean walked up the steps to the porch. He rang the doorbell, knowing his father hated the sound of knocking.

Mary opened the door with a huge smile on her face, and wrapped Dean up in a hug. "I've missed you, you need to come around more often! And this must be Castiel! We didn't properly meet earlier, my apologies; I was surprised!" She explained, pulling away from Dean and offering a hand to Castiel, which he shook nervously, and smiled.

"It's alright ma’am, I understand." He replied.

Mary led them inside. The table was already set, and John rose to shake Dean's hand. When his eyes came to rest on Castiel, there was instant tension in the room.

John gave him a nod. "I apologize for earlier, it was out of line of me. Can't exactly go around grabbing other people’s property, can ya?" He said curtly. Mary pursed her lips, and Dean flinched at the use of the word _property_.

Castiel just smiled. "No, you can't. Some people have to learn that lesson the hard way." He said pleasantly, but Dean could tell the double meaning of his words, and forced himself not to grin.

"Well, if everyone would all sit down--" Mary started, but John frowned.

"I hope you’re not insinuating that _thing_ is going to sit at the table with us." He said harshly.

Dean curled his hands into fists, and went to open his mouth to retort. Castiel's eyes widened, and he backed up, probably about to babble on about how he could totally just sit on the floor, but before either of them could get in a word, Mary put her hands on her hips.

"John Winchester, Castiel may be an angel, but he is our guest. You invited them both to dinner, they will both sit at the table, because we are not barbarians. At least, _I'm_ not, and I made this damn dinner. Sit down and make sure to keep your filter in check or I'll withhold sex for a week." She said sharply. John sighed and sat down. Dean felt himself turn red. Mary must have seen his blush, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Dean. You're the one who bought a sex slave. Now excuse me while I go get the muffins." She said, and went into the kitchen.

Dean and Castiel sat down across from John. "So, how long have you two… known each other?" John said slowly, jaw tight.

"Over a week now. Not overly long, but long enough to build some trust." Dean said casually.

John raised an eyebrow. "Trust?"

Dean nodded. "It's an important thing to have in every kind of relationship, don't you think, Dad? Business, friendship, lovers, marriage, family. Trust goes a long way." He said, smiling to hide the anger behind his words. Castiel looked down to his lap, traces of a smile on his face..

"I suppose you’re right. Although… I didn't know that the relationship between a sex slave and his master counted on that front." John said, in an innocent tone, as if he was just stating a passing thought.

Dean gritted his teeth. "That's not the relationship me and Cas here have. I don't make him do anything he doesn't want."

Just then Mary came back, carrying a basket of buns. She set them down on the table, and sat down. "That's lovely of you, dear. Looks like Sam isn't the only progressive one in this family." 

John shot Dean a glare over the basket of buns, to which Dean only smiled wider. They dished up, and began to eat, Mary telling them about the letter she just got from Ellen. "All of them up there are eager to see you boys. Will you be taking Castiel here with you up North?" she asked.

Dean felt Cas tense next to him, just like he always did when people mentioned the North. "Yes, and Balthazar." Dean replied.

John smiled. "Castiel and that other one will have to go through separate screening. Are you sure you want to go through that extra risk?”

"Of course. I'd rather not go at all than leave them behind. They're part of the family now." Dean replied sharply.

The rest of the dinner was tense small talk, including the story of Castiel and Michael’s unexpected relation, that slowly evaporated into a kind of calm peace. At one point, Castiel reached for another roll, and looked around for the butter. John passed him the dish from his side of the table. Castiel blinked in surprise, and took the outstretched dish with a small smile.

When they were all done, Mary started gathering the dishes up.

"Would you help me clean these, Dean? Our dishwasher broke." She asked.

Dean glanced at Castiel and his father. He leaned over and whispered in the angel's ear, "If you need me, yell."

And then he was up following his mother into the kitchen, leaving Castiel alone with his father.  
It was only for a little while - twenty minutes, tops. It wasn't like John would do anything with them right in the other room, and Castiel could handle himself if he even dared, right?

\---

Castiel watched as Dean followed his mother into the kitchen. He wanted to reach out for Dean, telling him not to leave him alone with John, but he didn't. He sat there, quiet and still.

The man that sat with him at the table had behaved well enough, kind even, but the event that happened this morning did not escape Castiel's mind. He may be Dean's father, and even so, Castiel did not like the man. He was just like all of _them_.

John cleared his throat, "How would you like a tour of the house?"

Castiel looked up at him, examining his every expression. "Perhaps we should wait for Dean, Sir," Castiel said politely.

John had a small questioning look in his eyes, then huffed out a small chuckle, "Dean won't be missing much. Come," John's voice turned hard and firm, "I insist."

Any sort of peace or contentment that had lit Castiel's face vanished. He felt his wings curl up tight behind his back as he stared at John, not moving to follow his indirect command. Even with the state of fear given away by his uncontrollable body movements, he glared at John and sat further back in his chair. He was _not_ going to leave.

Quickly catching onto his defiant behavior, John's face turned into a scowl and grabbed Castiel tightly by the wrist and dragged his skinny body up from the chair Castiel had though he had firmly placed himself in. Castiel let out a tiny whimper caused by both shock and the bruising grip upon his wrist.

"Shut it, slut," John spat in a hushed tone, "We're just going to take a small tour of the house."

 _We both know for a fact that that isn't what's going to happen,_ Castiel thought, but he didn't voice it.

He could call for Dean before this got anywhere; he was only a room away.

"Don't even think it," John whispered in his ear when he caught Castiel glancing towards the kitchen.

\---

"So, I never imagined you would ever buy an omega." Mary said as she scrubbed a dish.

Dean nodded. "You know I hate slavery. I didn't buy Cas to own him, I bought him to save him. They were going to put him down for not being submissive enough."

Mary's eyes widened. "You know I made peace with our society but… that is a bit…" She seemed to struggle with the word.

"Fucked?"

She chuckled." Yeah."

"That could also describe his mental state. God, they did a number on him. I can't wait to get to the North, where he can finally be free and be able to heal." Dean sighed.

Mary nodded. "I hope you are all happy up there. I'm gonna miss you."

Dean hugged her from behind. “I'll call you, don't worry."

She handed him another plate and kissed him on the cheek. "I know you will. What about Benny's omega?"

Dean smiled. "That's Balthazar. Him and Cas are best friends, kept each other strong in that hellhole they were in. Benny went and got him, and they are both a lot happier. They're good people, they didn't deserve what they went through. I don't think Balthazar is as far gone as Castiel. He was stolen out of the North, and given to that brothel directly. But Cas was sold when he was really young, he's been through a lot of shit. But he's not broken, he's got a strong heart."

Mary nodded. "My best friend in high school had an omega, but not for sexual purposes. She had been in a car crash when she was younger, and couldn't use her legs anymore. They couldn't afford a super nice wheelchair, so they bought an elderly omega to push her around and care for her. Her name was Kala, she was nice. The students at school where mean to her at first, but after a while they respected her. She had a calm acceptance around her. She really believed that angels were lesser than humans, and was content with it. Now that I look back, I suppose she had to believe it, or she would never be happy trapped down here. I don't think that angels are less than humans, Dean. But I know a lot of people do, and that the South… the South isn't ever going to change, at least, not in my lifetime. There's nothing I can do, so I just want to live my own life in peace, is that so wrong?" She explained.

Dean pursed his lips. "No, it isn't, Mom. You've done enough good in a lifetime, you don't owe the world anything."

Mary laughed and swatted the towel at him. "And John says your brother's the one with the poetic tongue!"

Dean scowled. "Don't ruin my reputation, Mom!"

\---

John tugged Castiel out of the room and into another, "This here's the living room," he said in a bored tone before leading him away, not giving Castiel much time even take in the looks of the room.

John led him to a staircase that went upward. Castiel fought weekly at the grip as he took the first few steps, but John was much too strong. He soon gave up fighting the man and let out a small, shaky breath, letting John lead him to wherever he wished.

The first door they came across as they entered the upstairs hallway was slightly open. John pushed it further and let Castiel look inside. "This was my youngest son's, Sam's room. Now it's a guest room." John said, looking around the room a bit as he spoke. He even let Castiel take a bit of a glance around. There was a bed that was neatly made with crisp sheets and dust-free shelves. The bed looked completely unused and a bit too perfect; probably hadn't been used in quite some time. But, it appeared that it was kept very clean anyways.

John led him to a door across from Sam's old room. "And this one was your master's." _Dean's room,_ "It's also a guest room." It looked awfully similar to the one that was one Sam's, but he supposed it was a little bit more _Dean,_ with the few music posters that hung on the wall.

"And this," John said with a rough tug at Castiel's wrist, "is the bathroom." He turned on the light and shoved Castiel inside, locking the door behind him after he entered. Castiel stumbled forward and quickly turned to face an approaching John Winchester. Castiel balled up his fists and backed away, but he didn't get far before he backed into the sink and John looked him up and down.

He could yell. He could yell for Dean and--

If looks could kill, John's stare would have killed Castiel in a heartbeat. It was too intense, and Castiel had to look away. Any thoughts of calling for Dean left his mind as John glared and placed a hand to Castiel's back end and gave it a squeeze, "Didn't think my son had it in him." He flipped Castiel around and pushed him down, causing him to lean uncomfortably over the bathroom sink. Castiel gulped nervously and felt himself shake as John pulled Castiel's slacks down to his ankles, spread his legs and felt over his bare ass.

Bringing up the bit of courage he still held, Castiel stuttered, "M-mayb-be you sh-shouldn't De-Dean—my master doesn't others t-to touch his p-pro--" John punched Castiel in the side, cutting him off from his sentence with a pained gasp.

"I'll do as I damn well please, slave." A finger forced it's way into Castiel, causing his breath to hitch. John pushed it in and out and rubbed against Castiel's walls, giving him a few moments for it to become wet. John seemed to be upset at the fact that Castiel wasn't excited, so he forced in two other fingers and moved them harshly. The angel let out a small whimper and hid his face in the crook of his arm. Castiel could feel John's fingernails scratching at him from the inside accidentally, or maybe it wasn't even an accident. Wouldn’t be the first time he bled a little.

"No," John yanked Castiel's head up by a fistful of dark brown hair and made him look up, "I want you to look at yourself as I fuck you."

Castiel hated it when they made him do this. He hated seeing how disgusting, putrid, unclean, wrong he was, and the way each little touch made him react. But what did it matter? He was an omega, nothing more but an object for sex and the dreams and desires of whatever human that owned it.

He moved his gaze from himself and glared up at John with everything he had. He knew he couldn't win a fight with this man, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

The hand that had been wrapped in Castiel's hair let go and made its way deep into his soft feathers. Castiel moaned silently and spread his wings in a submissive position. He couldn't control them. John chuckled darkly as he watched Castiel's defiant act begin to falter. He wasn't giving up, he _wasn't_! But with the hand grasping at his sensitive wings and the fingers moving inside him, his strength began to dwindle. Even so, he was _not_ giving up. 

Thick fingers twisted and thrust into him, scissoring and scraping until he could feel his body reluctantly surrendered to the abuse. 

"By the look in your eyes earlier, I thought Dean had bought a defective one, but I was wrong, wasn't I?" Castiel didn't reply. Dean said he'd protect him; why wasn't he here? "He probably hasn't even touched you yet, has he? He probably just bought you and treated you like a human, making you stupid promises that an omega can't comprehend; telling you that you're safe and don't have to do what you were made for any longer," John shoved in his pinky to the mix and started to spread his fingers. Slick had begun to form and leak from his hole, and John hummed in approval. 

"You know what your master plans on doing to you?” John continued, “He will break those promises, and make you do everything he promised wouldn't happen." John pulled out his fingers from within and angel and Castiel gasped. He could see John undo his belt from his reflection in the mirror, then taking Castiel's wrists and securing them tightly behind his back with the belt. He fought his bonds vainly, but nothing came out of it beside his increased heart beat. He hated being tied down, making him feel even more helpless than he already was.

John unzipped his zipper and let the pants and underwear drop. They caught around his knees, so he bent and helped them fall around his ankles. He rubbed his throbbing dick a few strokes before he lined it up to Castiel's hole and quickly wrapped his free hand around Castiel's mouth before taking a single deep thrust, forcing his way deep inside Castiel. Castiel cried out, but it was muffled by John's hand, which he kept there until he thrust himself balls deep into the omega. Before he could even begin to adjust to the sudden stretch, John began to move inside him. Castiel tried so hard to be quiet; he couldn't let Dean see him like this, but even with all his effort, whimpers and whines left his lips and were absorbed by John's hand. It hurt.

When John's thrusts began to hold a certain rhythm, Castiel bit his lip, keeping himself quiet enough for John to feel comfortable and remove his hand, but it didn't go far. He grabbed Castiel by the hair once more and forced him to watch himself get pounded into. "Stay like that," John said through small grunts of pleasure and let go. Castiel reluctantly obeyed and kept his eyes on himself. Tears were threatening to escape the corners of his eyes, and his face was slightly flushed. Each pant made the mirror in front of him fog up slightly, just disappearing as another pant left Castiel.

"This... is what Dean– _ugh_ –will do to you— _fuuuck_ you so hard you— _mmmh_ —you won't be able to... stand," John blurted out in between thrusts. Castiel looked up to the man through their reflections, and John smiled grimly through his bliss, "You're nothing but a—fuck toy," John said and he pushed Castiel down by the patch of back between his wings. The tears he failed to fight off trailed down his cheeks. John was right.

" _Yeh, uh,_ " John pulled out and let himself come right out of Castiel's throbbing pink hole. He was thankful that John was at least decent enough to pull his shirt up further before doing so. John let himself come down from his high, and smeared his come around Castiel's swollen rim, dipping his finger inside every other second. Castiel stayed his uncomfortable position of being bent over the sink and waited for John to unbind him and give him permission to clean. He didn't want him to leave smelling of come, did he?

"Castiel," John grabbed Castiel's soft dick with a come-covered hand and pinched it with a painfully tight grip, causing the omega to let out quiet whimpers of pain, "if Dean so much as _thinks_ about what just happened, your colorful-winged omega friend and that alpha brother will enter a world of pain," Castiel looked at John's reflection with deep concern, pleading, "Maybe even death."

"N-no please," Castiel said quietly, "Dean won't know just—please don't hurt them. I... I would anything." _Anything._

John chuckled, "That's good to know," he spanked Castiel's ass, causing the omega to flinch at the sudden contact, then John went for the belt and unbound his arms. Castiel slowly brought them back to his side and watched John carefully as he quickly cleaned himself with nothing more than a few strips of toilet paper and put his pants back on. "Clean yourself up, slut, and get back downstairs before they suspect anything. You know what will happen if they do." John smiled pleasantly and walked out the door and closed it gently.

Castiel shot up from his position and winced, crying out in pain from the tension in his lower back and the throbs coming from his ass. He dug his thumbs into his lower back and rubbed in attempts to loosen the muscles. He would have worked at them longer, but time was ticking by.

He went over the the roll of toilet paper and pulled a fairly large amount and wet it oh so slightly with water from the tap. Carefully, he wiped away the come and discarded it into the toilet, then flushed it away.

He looked down to his pants, praying to God no come ended up dripping onto them. His prayers were answered; they were fine. He quickly pulled them back up and and adjusted his shirt, tucking it in just right. He never wore anything fancy before, and this wouldn't even be considered so, but that didn't meant he didn't know _how_ to dress fancy. He had helped dress many men before; it was just odd to wear something that suggests class.

He gave himself a look-over in the mirror. Castiel noticed the tear stains across his cheeks and washed them away with cool water. _Don't let Dean suspect a thing._ He took a shaky breath, shook his wings, tugged a bit at the collar around his neck, and left the bathroom, trying his best to walk normally. 

When he re-entered the dining room, John was there with Dean and Mary.

 _Oh no,_ Castiel began to panic, _they know they know they know!_

"Did you find the bathroom fine, Castiel?" John asked with a friendly smiled. How deceiving that man was.

"Y-yeah," Castiel said slowly, examining their faces if they had any knowledge of what had taken place in the upstairs bathroom. It appeared they didn't. "You have a very lovely home, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. Thank you very much for allowing me to eat with you." Castiel lowered his head in submission.

"You're welcome, Castiel." Mary smiled warmly. She must have been where Dean got his kindness from.

"Well Cas, ready to go?" Dean asked, looking like he was about to walk for the door.

Castiel tried hard not to glance at John before nodding to Dean, then following him towards the door.

\---

Castiel tried to stay very still on the drive back. Every little bump that Dean hit was definitely felt, sending small-to-big shots of pain through his lower back, depending on the bump. He was really uncomfortable.

"Sorry I wasn't there with you the entire time, but Dad said that you two mostly just talked." Dean said.

"Yes," Castiel lied and looked at the passing city lights out the window of Dean's car. "Can we turn on the music, please?" Castiel asked shyly. He needed distraction.

Dean smiled, "Sure!" He happily turned it on. A group of acoustic instruments played through the speakers, and soon accompanied a calm, feminine voice. Castiel drew in a deep breath and let the music take him away, out of his mind, and into the starless sky.

He always felt like a bird locked inside a cage, dreaming of the sky and wind, that one day, he would be able to kiss the clouds and glide through the breeze. But when that day arrives, he is too scared. The cage is open, the window is right there! He hesitates, then finally takes flight; he feels so free. But, he waited too long. He is caught, and shoved back into his cage. He's locked in forever.

\---

The first thing Castiel did when he entered the apartment was request if he could take a shower, which Dean allowed.

He grabbed the clothes he had worn the night before and a fresh pair of underwear and headed straight for the bathroom. After locking the door, he quickly turned on the shower and took a few deep breaths. He avoided the mirror; he couldn't stand the sight of himself.

 _"Disgusting omega,"_ a voice other than his spoke to him. He couldn't say who it belonged to. Maybe it was only another part of him. No matter who it was, it spoke truth.

It was then that he remembered what John and said, what he _did._ His heart began to beat like a drum and started to hyperventilate, making it harder and harder to breathe each passing second. Tears began to uncontrollably roll down his face as he fell to the floor and curled himself into a ball.

 _Pull yourself together, Castiel!_ he scolded himself. _You're twenty-three; you're not a child anymore! Being fucked isn't something new, it's what you are. Stop being a baby and suck it up!_ He punched himself in the leg, trying to let that pain be a distraction from everything else that bombarded his tired mind.

His breath began to slowly settle to a breathable rate as he wiped his tears away. Castiel struggled to stand up, but he managed. He ripped his clothes off as fast as he possibly could and went in the shower. He took the bar of soap first and scrubbed away at his impurity. _Purity, tsk._ There is no such thing.

The rest of the shower was spent pondering on what John had said about Dean as he washed the rest of himself, paying little attention to his actions.

Was what he said... true? Did Dean truly mean to build a strong trust, just to tear it apart with rough hands and angry thrusts? He seemed so nice, _is_ so nice. Was that all an act?

What about Sam then? Was he in on this horrible joke too? Castiel imagined Dean taking him first, then leaving him as Sam's leftovers. Maybe they'd invite John too and all laugh as they fucked the idiot omega slave.

Castiel found himself crying again and cursed at himself. He was so _stupid!_ Did he really think a man like Dean bought him only to treat him as an equal? No, he had to have some sort of endgame. He must be one of those people who love to rip everything away and watch them suffer until they are nothing. Castiel _hated_ men like that.

It started to make sense. Dean was giving him a false sense of security, and was going to trap and torture him when it was too late.

Castiel got out of the shower and quickly dried off. He had new bruises, thanks to John. He had to make sure they stayed covered. As he put on his clothes, he still avoided his reflection. He couldn't stand the sight of himself right now. He hung his wet towel up with less effort than he normally put into it and walked out of the bathroom.

"Hey Cas, I had this idea that--" Castiel jumped at Dean's voice, "Are you okay?" Dean walked up to him slowly. If Castiel didn't know any better, he would have fallen for that look of complete concern.

"I apologize Dean, I'm just tired." Castiel gave him a small smile.

"That's nothing to be sorry about. I'm pretty wiped too. Let's go to bed then?" Dean asked, motioning over to his room.

Castiel was about to decline, now with his sudden mistrust for Dean, but he quickly changed his mind when he remembered: _I can't let Dean suspect a thing or else..._ "Alright, Dean." Castiel said lazily and Dean smiled.

That night, Castiel slept further away from Dean than usual, watching him as he slept until sleep took Castiel's consciousness.

That was when the nightmares came out to play.


	7. Without A Doubt, What Everyone's Been Waiting For

Dean awoke to a strange weight on him. He blinked open his eyes to find Castiel straddling him, completely naked, with a determined expression. Dean jerked, but Castiel's body weight held him down.

"I am aware of your plan, Dean, and I will not take part of it. I am tired of being played with; I resent mind games. If you stop your facade now, I promise I will make it worth your while." He said firmly, grinding down on Dean to add emphasis to his statement.

Dean stared up at him in shock, and Cas furrowed his brow in confusion. "C-Cas, what the hell? What are you doing?" He stammered, mind reeling.

Castiel's eyes hardened in anger, and he shimmied down till he was straddling Dean's knees instead of his waist. The friction of the angel on top of him had him rock hard, a fact he was ashamed of. He went to sit up, but Cas pushed him back down by his shoulders, pinning him to the bed. The angel flared out his light golden wings for more leverage.

"I know what you want, and I know you’re just pretending to be nice to mess with my head. I'm not new to this. I will do anything you wish, as long as you do not play mind games with me. Besides, it wastes time, Master. Time that could be better spent by me serving you." Castiel explained in a distant, matter of fact tone. Then, before Dean could even work out what he had said, he batted his eyelashes at Dean coyly as he lowered his head to mouth at Dean's erection through his boxer shorts, dropping his wings in submission. Dean took the opportunity to shove the angel backwards and away from him. Castiel lost his balance and fell onto his butt on the floor, looking dazed.

Dean scrambled up the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, his heart was beating a mile a minute. 

"Get out!" He exclaimed, staring at the angel in anger, shock and confusion.

Castiel's eyes widened, and he blinked up at Dean. "Maste--"

" _Stop!_ I-I don't even – you are way more fucked up in the head then I could have ever imagined! Get the fuck out—I can't – stay away from me, just-just go, okay? Leave me alone, and don't go near Sam or Jess till I figure out what the _hell_ just fucking happened!" He shouted, chest heaving.

All the blood drained from Castiel's face, and he tripped and scrambled over himself to escape the room. Dean heard the door to the other room slam and lock.

Dean ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down and work out his own thoughts. Cas had practically molested him! If Dean hadn't been able to stop him, how far would he have gone? Wasn't that something that happened, rape victims becoming rapists themselves? Was Castiel that far gone?

Something in him argued against the very thought of that, however. He'd only known Cas for just over a week or so now, but there was something about him... he was a fighter, and a confused, fucked up soul, but... there had to be another explanation for his actions.

Dean stood, his erection wilted by all the panic and anger. Good riddance, that was the last thing he needed to worry about right now. He began to pace back and forth, rubbing his temples.

What had Cas been going on about? Dean relayed what he could remember through his head.  
 _I know you’re just pretending to be nice to mess with my head._ Did Cas really think that? That Dean was just as bad as all the others who had hurt him? That was even more wounding than the molestation, that Cas thought so lowly of him after everything he'd done.

 _He doesn't know any better. He's had it programmed into him,_ a voice whispered.

He stopped in his tracks. Castiel couldn't comprehend the idea of someone just wanting to take care of him, to just be his friend. He trusted Balthazar, because Balthazar was on the same level as him, his subconscious identified him as an equal; they had shared the pain and the experience of being enslaved. To Cas, Dean was the Master. He'd bought him. He'd saved him from death. He was human, and therefore, as Castiel had been beaten into believing, better. But he knew that only part of the angel felt that way. He was at war with his knowledge, his instincts, and what had been practically carved into him—all inside his head. Meanwhile, he'd gone from being treated like trash, to a bunch of humans trying to treat him as an equal. No comprehendo. Does not compute. Ask again later.

It occurred to Dean that if Cas couldn't help but see him on the same level as all the other Masters he's had, then it stood to reason Castiel couldn't help but see him as someone that was bound to hurt him. So, Cas thought he was just pretending to be nice, to fuck with him, before eventually turning around and, well... fucking him.

So, what? Cas decides he's going to beat him to it? Why? Dean began to pace again, digging hard into the evidence to try and find a conclusion. He was still pretty shaken up – you can't just hold a dude down like that and--

He froze again. The realization hit him like a brick.

Castiel spent his whole life being subjected and raped. Never being in control. The idea that Dean was just playing with him must have him living constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and trying to cut right to it was Castiel's only way of gaining any peace, even if it meant more pain.

Well, that was just fucking sad. This whole damn thing was fucking sad as shit.

He heard muffled sobbing coming from across the hall, and his heart twisted. He'd screamed at Cas – well, he'd had good reason – but that probably hadn't helped. His angel was hurting, and confused, and lost inside his own screwed up head.

He pulled on pajama pants and a t-shirt, and headed across the hall. He knocked on the door softly, "Cas? Can I come in? I'm sorry for yelling, I was just... well, upset. But I'm not angry, I'm not going to hurt you, or yell at you, I promise. I think I understand what's going on." He said.

There was a silent moment, before the handle turned slowly.

 

The pace of Castiel's beating heart quickened, if that was even possible at the rate it had already been going. His hand shook as he turned the knob and opened the door. He didn't look up at Dean, he just kept his head down, folded his hands neatly and lowered his wings; a position of reverence and submission.

Dean said he understood what was going on. How did he know about John? How did he... _oh no—no no no no no!_ Dean _knew_ , and now they were going to die because he wasn't careful enough. _Dammit, Castiel! You're nothing but a huge fuck-up!_

"Cas," Dean started slowly as Castiel backed away from the doorway, allowing Dean to enter to room, "here let's... sit on the bed, alright? We gotta talk about this." Castiel bit his lip as he followed Dean to the bed and sat down further away from him than truly necessary.

Dean took a deep breath, "Cas, I'm gonna be completely honest with you here, so you have to listen, alright?" Dean asked him gently, yet firmly. Castiel nodded as he continued to look down at his hands. "When I first met you, back at that clinic, I... bought you only out of good intentions. Anyone could see that you've gone through hell and I... I wanted to get you far away from that life and give you something better, something you deserve. I wanted you to feel safe for maybe the first time in your life. I didn't expect you to trust me right away but, I thought we were finally getting somewhere and then this morning you--" Dean cut himself off with a sad chuckle and said in a hurt tone, "You really thought I was that cruel; that I would even _consider_ doing those things to you?"

Castiel didn't reply, and when he didn't, Dean got off the bed and kneeled in front of Castiel, gently placing his over the angel's. The action surprised the angel. "I would _never_ harm you, Castiel." Castiel looked at Dean when he said his full name. A stray tear rolled down his cheek. "Well at least, not intentionally. I promise." Dean offered him a reassuring smile and held Castiel's hands, entwining his fingers into his, "I won't do anything to you that you don't want. I'll never rape you. I--" Dean paused and licked his lips, "You've been hurt by so many of your past masters and whoever else, so you supposed I was like them but Cas, I'm _not_ like them. I just—when will you get that?"

"What's wrong with me?" Castiel said quietly with a few more tears. He wasn't sure if it was too early to feel a hint of relief that John hasn't been brought into the conversation, but he couldn't help but feel it. He messed up enough already. _He_ was messed up enough.

"H-hey," Dean lifted a hand to Castiel's face slowly and gently wiped away a tear, "nothing's wrong with you."

Castiel scoffed, "I thought you said you were _'going to be completely honest'._ "

"I am being honest."

"That's a lie." Castiel glared at him through teary eyes, "There's something wrong with me, something _very_ wrong."

"Cas--"

"I try to be good, to be the perfect omega, but I'm – I'm _wrong_ a-and fucked up. I really do try, I really do, but then I get so _mad_ and I end up doing bad things and then--" Castiel breath hitched as he began to cry all over again. Memories fled back of seemingly endless torture and pending death, filling him with great dread. _"You're a fucked-up piece of shit."_

Next thing he knew, he was enveloped into a warm hug, which startled him and he fought it a bit, but once he realized it was Dean, he fell into the hug.

"You are good," Dean spoke tenderly in Castiel's ear, "We’ll get through this together, alright? You may not be perfect, but you are good, Cas, and we'll get through all of this, together. We'll figure it out." Dean pulled away just enough to look Castiel in the face. Dean looked so flustered and slightly awkward, an expression Castiel hadn't seen him wear before. The sincerity and care in his eyes...

Castiel pulled Dean closer and hugged him tight, tucking his face in the crook of Dean's neck. Slowly, Dean returned it, wrapping his arms around Castiel's lower back. They stayed like that for some time, not speaking a word. Castiel just had to be held for a bit. 

Dean meant it. Dean meant everything that he said, that he only wanted him to be happy, safe. That's all he wanted of Castiel, from the very beginning. He wasn't sure if he could give Dean that though. As long as Castiel lived, he was not safe. Castiel knew that in the eyes of most, he was nothing but a plaything to be used as they pleased. Dean treated him like a living, breathing being with a soul, just like everyone else. It had thrown him off at the beginning, but he had become comfortable enough until John...

Funny how he believed what John had said when he had only just met him and knew Dean for longer. What John said, it was more believable than the odd simplicity of Dean's pure motives. So, he really got all worked up over nothing? His attempt to subdue Dean with his advances did nothing but leave the both of them hurt. Castiel supposed that he should apologize for his rash actions he performed earlier.

Castiel pulled away from the hug, "Dean, I'm sorry... I..." Castiel pushed himself away from Dean and backed away to the headboard of the bed, disgusted with himself.

"No, Cas, it's--"

"How could you even still _touch_ me? Even you know that I'm—" Castiel quivered, " _fucked_ up! You said so yourself!" His heart began to beat hard against his chest and his breath was heavy.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and winced slightly, "... Cas,"

"I'm _disgusting_! And yet you-you treat like – like a _human_. Look at me, Dean. _Look at me!_ " Castiel cried with tears of rage, then slumped back down in defeat, "I’m not human, I'm nothing," he muttered, "Just please stop... stop lying to me," his voice was weak and wavered.

Castiel started the curl up on himself in attempts to spare Dean from looking upon his putrid self. His wings wrapped around him like a cocoon, and he remained like that until Dean finally broke the silence, "Castiel—Cas, what I said - what I _yelled_ , earlier, I didn't mean any of it and I am so, so sorry. You just – startled me," Dean said carefully, "I-I shouldn't have said the things I did, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Dean placed a hand lightly on Castiel's arm, but pulled it away when Castiel flinched from the touch.

Dean got up from the bed, causing Castiel to jostle a bit from the absence of his weight. "Get some clothes on," Dean said a bit coldly before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Castiel grabbed the sides of his skull and grit his teeth. He was so confused and conflicted, and felt like he had no more space in his head. He couldn't think clearly, and what he knew and didn't know were and one jumble and--

He snapped out of it and remembered that last order he was given: to clothe his naked figure. Castiel struggled a bit with getting up from the bed with weak limbs, but managed. After taking a few steps towards the dresser, he opened it up and grabbed the first few things that were there and put them on. He tried to keep his mind blank, to not think about today's rough start.

After he finished getting dressed, he looked over his shoulder and looked at the bed. The sheets were all ruffled and messy. Castiel sighed, walking back towards the bed and straightening them out before looking to the door. He didn't really feel like facing Dean again, but he knew he had to leave his room at some point, and it had become habit for him to leave with Dean to his auto repair shop.

Dorothy had begun to teach him and Balthazar how to sort through some of the paperwork. Balthazar found it tedious, but Castiel rather enjoyed it. It was relaxing, and took his mind off of everything that was wrong. The papers were a getaway, and he continuously told himself that it was not a selfish one, that he is helping Dean out by doing so.

Castiel stared at the doorknob for a few moments, then opened the door.

Dean was standing in the kitchen, rinsing off the last bit of dishes that he had just washed. He glanced up at a hesitant Castiel, but didn't say anything as he continued with his task at hand. Castiel stepped further into the room and hobbled a bit on one foot. "M-may I... have a glass of water, please?"

Dean flashed him a small smile and filled a clean glass that he had just washed with tap water. "Here," he said as he handed him the glass.

Castiel took it and began to chug it down quickly. He hasn't realized how thirsty he had been until the first few drops hit his throat. In the midst of his desperate guzzling, some of the water missed his mouth and trailed down his chin. Castiel raised and dropped his wings in satisfaction when the final drop left the glass, and then wiped the water from his face with the back of his hand. He looked at the empty glass and then to Dean, "May I have some more?"

Dean chuckled lightly and gave him a curious grin, "Alright." Dean took the glass from Castiel and filled it up again. He took it happily from Dean and chugged it down, although not as desperately as he had before. "Better?" Dean asked when Castiel had drunk the glass dry.

"Yes, thank you."

Dean nodded, "Yep," he started walking to the door to the apartment, then stopped and turned to Castiel, "You do know you can help yourself to food or water whenever you want, right? I'm more than fine with it."

Castiel lowered his gaze a bit, "Yeah."

Dean nodded to himself, "Good. I have to get to work, do you feel like going today or would you like to stay home?"

"I'd like to go with you, if that's–that's okay with you." Castiel said almost shyly. He wasn't quite sure on what grounds he and Dean were on right now.

"'Course." Dean said, and left it at that.

\---

The drive was a bit awkward for both passenger and driver. Music was still playing from the station it was last set on, but the volume was so low that it was barely audible, and Castiel figured he didn't have permission the adjust the volume since this was Dean's car.

By riding with Dean just about everyday, Castiel got to see a bit of the city and finally get to know it, and even started to memorize the way to his work and back; not like that knowledge mattered to someone like him. Only a few times had Castiel seen the outside world as his time as a slave. Everything was astonishing, yet terrifying at the same time.

The billboard with the ad for some angel training facility always made him uneasy when they passed it, with the angel on a leash licking it's master's shoes with 'turn disobedience into devotion' sprawled across it, along with contact information. Castiel was actually thankful that his former masters had taken to training him themselves and not dropping him off at one of those facilities. He had heard of some of the appalling things that take place in them. They were one of every angels worst nightmare.

Some were only correctional, which wasn't all that bad, considering the rest that could happen. For instance, Castiel knew of omegas that had their voice, sight, and hearing taken away from them, leaving them utterly helpless, lifeless, and entirely dependent, only breathing to be fucked into. They were much like dolls, which this type had soon come to be called.

Castiel met a doll once, or more like he saw one. After he had been caught by Lucifer, he had been taken to the Angel Host Association to be sold. In the cage across from his was a doll, beaten and bruised. Feathers were missing from the young omega's wings, and it appeared to be missing two fingers on his right hand. The doll had to be no older than twelve, and even though Castiel had experienced hell, he couldn't imagine the worse hell the angel in front of him lived through everyday, locked away inside his tortured mind with no escape. All Castiel remembers thinking was how thankful he was that he wasn't in that poor omega's place. Now that he thought about it, that was a bit heartless of him. But really, what could he have done? It was that moment that he actually wished a quick, painless death upon someone.

Castiel shook those dark thoughts away and looked up at the passing clouds. Something he'd never get tired of seeing was the open sky and feeling the sunlight against his skin. The only times he had been outside in the past ten years of his life was to freeze in the rain. The sun licking at his pale skin was definitely one of his favorite feelings.

Castiel shifted a bit in his seat and glanced towards Dean. His face was full of concentration, focusing only on the road ahead of him. Castiel reflected back to the event that was this morning, and a question arose. Castiel cleared his throat, "So... does this mean I won't see either Jess nor Sam any longer?" He had to admit, in this short time, Castiel had become a bit attached to these people.

"No, I--" Dean sighed, "You'll still get to see them, Cas. Don't worry. Just..." Dean tapped the steering wheel with his fingers, "don't go and..." Dean trailed off and kept driving.

"'Don’t go and' what, Dean?" Castiel finally asked when he realized Dean wasn't going to finish what he said.

"Don't go— _straddling_ people."

Castiel scoffed at the irony that sentence held.

"What?" Dean shot him a look.

"I didn't say anything," Castiel said innocently.

Dean shook his head, "Well, aren't you moody today." Dean stated in an irritated tone. Castiel fell still at that and kept quiet, and the remainder of the ride stayed that way.

\---

Dean had never been so frustrated in his entire life. He was useless at this. He wasn't equipped to help anyone like this. He'd done his best to understand Castiel's motives, which he did, but that didn't really get him any farther proving to Cas that he didn't have to feel that way anymore.

He supposed that it wasn't that simple. You couldn't just reach in and reset someone like a machine, back to their factory setting. Couldn't refurnish someone to hide the damage the world had left on them. And you shouldn't be able to—that would make life pointless.

But it also made life a lot harder.

He tried not to slam the car door, Cas already seemed like he was trying to sink into the ground. They were a little late from traffic, so by the time they walked in, the alphas were finishing up breakfast.

Balthazar practically materialized next to Cas, and Dean headed straight for the garage to get to work, hoping Benny or Dorothy wouldn't try and drag anything about his mood out of him. He did not want to go explaining this one.

He was still angry about this morning's events, but not exactly at Cas… to be honest; it angered him how tempted he had been to give in.

He could have let Cas pull down his boxers and ride his cock this morning, it would have been so easy, _god_ , he had wanted to. And it ashamed him that if it had been anyone other than Cas… he just didn't know.

But he knew he would never have let Cas do that. He… fuck, he cared about the guy way more than he'd have ever imagined when he had first bought him. Even after everything he'd been through, how scattered and conflicted his jigsaw puzzle of a head was, he had this insane innocence to him most of the time. Then there were other times, during his so called "anger surges", when Dean was terrified to his bones. He had, after all, _biten off a man's fucking testicles._

He was changing into his jumpsuit and Benny brought him coffee while all the alphas started heading to their work stations. "Dean, I bought something for Castiel, and for Balthazar." He announced.

Dean raised an eyebrow while accepting the coffee, "Go on?"

"Cell phones. Not super nice ones, just two basic Walmart touch screens, all paid for, unlimited texting. I want them to be able to communicate easier, and I'm hoping that in case of anymore emergencies like what happened to Cas at the supermarket, they can call or text us, you know? Just a precaution." Benny explained, holding up the Walmart bag.

Dean blinked in surprise. "Woah, Benny. That's… well, I can't think of anything bad about it, besides the danger of getting them addicted to like one of those cut ire candy shit game for whatever."

"Considering the shit they've been through, I don't see the harm in letting them indulge in mindless pixelated joy." Benny countered.

Dean huffed. His frustration was fading into just plain concern. He hoped Cas didn't think he was angry. He had been angry earlier, but not directly at Cas. He felt like kind of a dick now, actually. "Yeah, I'm fine with it I guess. But if anything goes wrong, it was your idea. Now, come on, let's get to work." Dean said, chugging the last of the coffee and setting the mug down.

While he reclipped the steering column of an old Ford van, he wondered what they would do when they got to the North. He wondered what the North was really like… having a country divided for decades by a giant wall was bound to result in cultural differences. He hoped it was as good as they said it was, and wasn't some the grass is greener on the other side thing.

He longed for a better life, for him and Sam and Jess, and Dorothy and Benny and the angels.  
He wanted Castiel to be free.

The only question was—what exactly did free mean in this world anymore?

\---

Just when they had pulled into the repair shop, Balthazar had practically dragged Castiel into the office building.

"Good morning, Castiel." Dorothy greeted him with a smile.

"Morning." Castiel said with a curt nod before he was being dragged off yet again by a rather enthusiastic Balthazar. He could hear Dorothy chuckle just before Balthazar closed the door to Dean's office.

"So, how did things go?" Balthazar asked. Castiel gave him a confused look. "You know, last night? Dinner with the parents?"

Castiel's face fell out of its own will and Balthazar's eyes widened knowingly, "He didn't..." Castiel looked to his feet. " _Cas_ , why — h-how?"

Castiel let out a shaky sigh, "Dean went to wash the dishes, and... h-he took me upstairs and--"

"Could you not call out for Dean?" Balthazar interjected, "You should have stopped him, Cassie, you've stopped them before!" He said when Castiel didn't reply to the first question, and he continued to be silent. "Did you tell Dean?"

"No."

"Why in heavens not? Dean cares deeply for you, Cassie. He would—Cas, you have to tell him."

"I-I can't."

"Why not?"

"He—John, he threatened that if I did he would—" Castiel swallowed and looked at Balthazar, "that he would hurt you, Michael, everyone else and I can't... I can't let that happen because of me. Not again."

"Well first of all if he were to harm me, that would be illegal since he doesn't have ownership over me." Balthazar said with a furrowed brow.

"He said he would make it look like an accident. L-look it's—it's not a big deal, really."

"It's a _huge_ deal, Cassie. You may not think it, but it is."

"What? Because I didn't get _paid_ for it?" Castiel snapped coldly, "Or because I'm not his rightful property?"

Balthazar looked at him for a moment, "No, Castiel, because it's _wrong_. You shouldn't be treated like that. _Nobody_ should be treated like that."

"If you hadn't noticed already, that's _exactly_ how we're treated."

Balthazar sighed, "You still have to tell Dean."

"No." _I can't do that. I can't let him know._

"Why are you being so stubborn, Castiel?"

"Why are you being so _stupid_?"

Balthazar winced slightly, wounded from his best friend's words.

"Balthazar, I'm sorry I didn't mean--"

Balthazar just shook his head, then looked at Castiel in recognition. "Your heat is approaching, isn't it?" Castiel nodded slowly. "Well, that explains why you're so moody. Why did you come today, you should have stayed at Dean's! We don't know what kind of affect your heat has on alphas."

"It's not going to come until tomorrow or so, I can feel it."

"Still, you should have stayed. Does Dean know?"

"Uh..." Castiel shuffled, "no."

" _Caaaaaaaaas_ ," Balthazar whined, "you-y-you _have_ to tell him or else you'll--"

"I know, Balthazar. I know."

"You can't let it come to that." Balthazar took Castiel's hands in his.

"This'll be the first time without someone a-and I'm scared." Castiel admitted.

Balthazar pulled him into a hug, "You have Dean. I'm sure if you told him everything, he would do it."

"I'm not so sure," they both pulled out of the hug far enough that they were holding each other's arms, "I might have ruined things between us."

"What do you mean?" Balthazar asked.

Castiel sat down in Dean's big office chair and Balthazar sat in the plastic one across from it. "This morning I came onto Dean and he didn't..."

"Why did you do that?" Balthazar asked curiously, leaning forward in his seat.

"I had this–this stupid idea in my head that he was just messing with me, and I just wanted to get that all over with. I-I think he's mad at me now."

Balthazar smiled sadly, "That man only wants to take care of you, even I can see that. And, even if he _was_ mad at you, I'm sure he would do it if you explained it to him. You don't really want to die, do you?" He asked quietly.

Castiel shot him a look. No, no he didn't. He could feel himself getting angry, angry at those doctors and that damned implant they made him get back when he was only a child. Because of it, the intensity of his heats were so strong that they often left him close to being paralyzed and in an agonizing state of ecstasy. And the real kicker was, if he didn't have sex during this period of two-three days, there was a high chance he would suffer to an eventual death.

"Do you want me to tell him?" Balthazar asked.

"N-no I'll–I'll take care of it." Castiel said with a reassuring smile. Honestly, he wasn't sure if he should tell Dean or not. Dean was mad at him enough as it was, and he didn't want to make him even more so with his... problem. There were times Castiel was sure that there had been hints of lust in Dean's eyes, but when Castiel went to meet him halfway, Dean would get mad at him. Maybe Castiel was just mistaken. Yeah, that was it, he was just an idiot omega after all.

"Would you like me to get you some water?" Balthazar asked.

"Yes, that would be great, thank you."

Balthazar grinned and left Dean's office to retrieve a cup of water from the filter in the main office. The care that they both shared for each other was immense. Castiel didn't know what he would have done without him. He would have survived, he supposed. He promised him as much.

Balthazar walked back into the room carefully with a cup filled to the brim. "Heeeere you are!" He handed it to Castiel, who sipped noisily at the brim until he could finally drink it normally.

"Would you like more?" Balthazar asked when the cup was empty.

Castiel smirked, "Yes please."

\---

Dean felt better after a good day's hard work. He always felt better when he knew he'd done some good in the world, even if he was covered in grease afterwards. Luckily, they had a fully equipped shower room. A quick rinse and he was back in normal clothes, towel drying his hair as he walked into the main room.

Dorothy was talking to a customer at the front desk, and the angels were waiting to be let back downstairs—all except Michael, who was sitting with his brother, Balthazar and Benny. He walked over to them with a smile on his face, winking at Benny knowingly. Benny got the hint, and pulled the two little black cardboard boxes out of his huge jacket and set them on the table. Michael's eyes widened when he saw them—he had given the angels an emergency cellphone to call him in case of trouble a while back, so Michael must recognize the box it came in.

He'd also given the angels two laptops to share amongst themselves so they wouldn't be horribly bored. The only setback was that he often saw random things pop up into his Netflix history, but he didn't mind. Although, he was frankly impressed by how fast they had watched all the seasons of _Scrubs_.

Balthazar must have recognized what was inside the box, as he took one of the boxes without a second of hesitance. He went to open it, but then froze and looked to Benny to make sure he wasn't making a mistake, but Benny only smiled and nodded. "Go ahead, one for each of you." He insisted. Balthazar tore his box apart to pull the touch screen phone out, marveling at it, even going as far to rub it against his face.

Castiel slowly grabbed the box nearest to him and undid it, hesitantly picking up the phone and setting it on the counter in front of him. "I-I don't understand, why are you giving us shiny bricks of metal and glass? Is this–is this some sort of sexual device, like the ones you already purchased for me?" He inquired, glancing at Dean, who turned beet red.

Benny choked on his own saliva, and Balthazar wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. Michael stared up at the ceiling, as if praying to God to release him from this hell.

Dean cleared his throat. "Uh, no, Cas, this is a cellphone. It's so that you and Balthazar can like, communicate even when you’re apart, and so that if anything happens to you you can call me, Benny, or Dorothy. It's also so you can talk to Michael if you want, he has one too." Dean explained.

Castiel's eyes widened."A cellphone? Fo-for me? Even... even after what I did?" He said in a quieter tone, looking downward.

Dean's heart twisted. "You didn't—it wasn't your fault, Cas, it was a misunderstanding. You deserve this, trust me." Dean assured him.

Castiel seemed heartened at those words, and picked the phone up, running it over with his hands as if to memorize how it felt. Balthazar's was already on and he was already deep into the process of personalizing it. "So, what kind of data plan do we get?" He asked.

"You don't need one, considering all you ever go is either here, Dean's apartment, or my apartment, all of which have wifi." Benny replied.

Balthazar shrugged and started taking pictures of himself making strange faces. "Come on, Cassie, let's take a selfie!"

"A _what_?"

\---

They showed the angels the basics of their phones and then head their separate ways.

"So, uh, you know I'm not mad at you, right?" Dean asked on the ride home.

Castiel glanced over at him, then looked back down at his lap. "You should be."

"I think I'll decide whether or not I should be mad or not." Dean raised an eyebrow. "Are _you_ still under the impression that I'm just mind fuckin' you?" Castiel shook his head, but his jaw tightened and his feathers ruffled. Dean sighed, turning back to the wheel, "Look, as much as it hurts that you still think that of me, I understand. It takes time. I'm going to prove it to you. Now, what do you want to pick up for dinner, I'm feeling a bit like fast food tonight." He changed the subject, but in the back of his mind he wished Castiel would just _trust him._

They decided on Arby's. Dean got French Dip, Cas got a salad. Normally, Dean would make fun of that kind of thing, but he kept his mouth shut this time.

They got home, and ate in awkward silence.

"Do you… still want me in your bed?" Castiel asked, pushing the last piece of lettuce around the bowl slowly.

Dean pursed his lips. "How about we try and sleep in separate rooms, just to give each other some space… but if you need to, you can always come back. I don't want you having nightmares, I'm always here for you." He added, not wanting Cas to get the wrong idea.

He cleaned up their garbage at bade Cas goodnight. As he made his bed, he couldn't help feeling lonely as he head the door across the hall click close. But it was for the best.

\---

Castiel sighed deeply as he stared at his neatly made bed. This was for the best.

He didn't want to risk it either, with his heat being so close. He couldn't tell Dean; he had so many opportune moments to tell him, but he just couldn't. He didn't want Dean to be angry with him again. He just wanted to be _good_ for once in his insignificant life.

Castiel walked towards his dresser and began to take off his day clothes. Before he took off his pants, he retrieved his cellphone from his pocket. He did know what a cellphone was, but these were so different from the ones you had to flip open, the ones Castiel had formerly been familiar with. Castiel wondered when technology became this advanced.

 _3 messages_ it read when he pressed the power button. Curiously, he went to the home screen and pressed the icon for text messaging.

Balthazar. All three texts were from Balthazar. Castiel shouldn't have been surprised; who else would want to be contacting him?

 _"I think I'm annoying her lol"_ said one message with an attached picture of a rather unpleasant-faced Dorothy. Balthazar had told him earlier what 'lol' meant; it was some weird 'text language'. He was feeling too exhausted at this moment to remember what it meant, but he did know it meant something good.

The next text was nothing but a bunch of little pictures. Emojis, or something like that. They were a bunch of little happy faces and hearts. Castiel smiled at that. Balthazar seemed happy, and he deserved that happiness.

 _"I think theres a bee in my room rn cas come kill it 4 me"_ It took Castiel a few moments to decipher the message but when he did, he replied to it with, _"I will do no such thing. Bees are peaceful creatures."_ Castiel found a bee emoji and inserted it into the message before sending it. He was very thankful for autocorrect, since his spelling wasn't anything to be proud of.

He had a year and a bit if schooling in the South when he lived with Gran, and Meg had taught him a thing or two, but other than that, he had the education of a ten-year-old boy. Maybe if he would be so bold, he'd ask Dean for school books. But what did it matter in the end? He would always be a stupid omega, no books would change that.

His phone lit up with a new text from Balthazar: _"dont worry dor got it out. it is alive. ;) I know how much u <3 bees "_ It was true; he did love bees. He loved the way they buzzed happily as they worked, gathering honey from the flowers in a garden. It was one of the few places he found peace.

 _"I'm going to bed now goodnight,"_ Castiel sent in reply.

 _"Goodnight Cassie :D sleep well <3 <3 <3"_ Balthazar replied only moments after Castiel bade him goodnight.

Castiel set his phone down on the vanity and took off his pants. Just as he was about to put on his pajamas, a surge of crippling energy rushed through Castiel's veins. His chest became heavy, causing him to breathe in deep, struggled breaths.

No, no this—this wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow. Or, that was what Castiel had hoped. We can't always get what we want.

A second surge bolted through him, causing him to double over onto the bed. He could feel himself becoming warm, too warm. Castiel struggled to rip off his underwear as he felt himself becoming slick, begging to be filled.

When the third hit him, he bit his lip to withhold a cry as he grasped at the sheets. It took him a moment to recover, but when he did, he quickly reached under the bed to retrieve his dildos. He didn't think they'd do the trick, but he supposed they'd help him out at least a little. They were all washed and ready for use, as he had prepared them just for the occasion beforehand.

He placed them down on the bed without ceremony and grabbed one at random, shoving it inside himself while he still had the energy to do so. Castiel moaned as he clenched around the object. The stretch was a bit much, but with the aid of his heat, it soon welcomed the dildo and awaited its movement. Castiel laid on his stomach and reached down to push it in further. He mewled, then proceeded to slowly pull it in and out with teary eyes.

All of his senses were beginning to make everything painfully unbearable; the sheets on his bare skin, the scent of the air, the sweat dripping down his skin, the heavy collar around his neck, the dildo tucked between his thighs.

It was going to be a long night.

\---

Jess entered the dimly lit apartment, looking around for her boyfriend's brother and the angel, with the intention to ask if they wanted to come to a nice breakfast with her and Sam.

Upon realizing they were probably still asleep, she turned to go, when she heard a noise. A whimpering, coming from down the hall. She hurried to investigate—it was coming from Castiel's room. Dean could be a heavy sleeper, she knew, but with this racket right next to his room? Really?

Not even bothering to knock, she pushed the door open to find a naked Castiel writhing on the bed, an acidic smell in the air. His sheets were soaked in tears and slick, but not the oily clearish slick omegas were supposed to produce—this was thicker, and had a golden tint to it. Her heart stopped in her chest, and she rushed to the angels side, trying to make him focus on her.

"Cas! Castiel! Do you have an implant?" She exclaimed. Castiel just clung to her and sobbed, nodding his head. She stared down at the mess of an angel, trying to think of what to do. The only logical choice became clear, and she rushed across the hall to Dean's room, shaking him awake frantically.

He squinted at her, rubbing his eyes. "Jess wha - what's up?" He yawned.

"Castiel is in heat!" She exclaimed.

Dean's eyes snapped wide open. "Uh-um-should we leave him alone—" He stammered.

She shook her head. "No—Dean, this isn't a normal heat. He has a hormone implant. It prevents him from getting pregnant, but messes with his body, especially during heat. If he doesn't have full on intercourse, he could be seriously injured by his own immune system—possibly even die. It requires the release of sperm within him, and the completion of his own climax for his vitals to return to normal, do you understand? Dean, you have to do this." She explained.

Dean stared at her, wrapping his head around all the new information. "Do-do Cas? As in _fuck_ Cas? I-I can't do that to him, I'm not a rapist—"

"I'm pretty sure if he has to choose between dying and having sex with you, it's not a hard choice." Jess replied.

"He shouldn't have to make that choice!" Dean shouted, struggling to disentangle himself from the sheets.

Jess stood, putting her hands on her hips. "I know this isn't ideal, but this is what it is. Besides, I'm pretty sure he wants you right now anyway. Just – just make sure he doesn't die, okay? I'll leave you two alone, call me later." Jess said, then she was gone, practically running down the hall.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. This could not be happening.

He stood, not bothering to put on a shirt as he crept from his room to Castiel's. He pushed open the door, and froze instantly.

Cas was naked, skin flushed red and sweaty, slick everywhere. He was tangled in soaked sheets, and was sobbing and hiccuping weakly. Dean felt his heart wrench in his chest at the sight.

But when he stepped forward to investigate further, another part of his anatomy… reacted. Castiel’s hole was stretched around the blunt end of a blue dildo. The sight sent blood draining to his groin, causing his boxers to tighten up.

Only then did Castiel see to register Dean’s presence, and he lunged for him, clinging to him.  
“D-Dean, I’m sorry - I’m s-s-so s-sorry _please_!” He begged, scrambling at him. Dean caught the angel’s hands in his hands, leaning down to look him in the eyes. “I’m s-s-s-orry,”

“Cas! Cas, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to make it okay. I’m…I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I'm only going to do what you need and want me to do, Cas. What is that? What do you need, what do you want?” He asked, trying to reach Cas’ reasonable side. Some of his words seemed to register, and he took a deep breath, and rested his burning forehead against Dean’s wrist.

“W-want y- _need_ y-you, p-please, I-I’m s-s-sorry...” He rasped.

Dean took that as all the permission he was going to get. He ran a hand through Cas’ sweaty hair and kissed his temple, shushing him quietly. “It’s alright, everything is going to be okay.” He whispered softly.

He inhaled for a moment, getting himself into the headspace he needed. This wasn’t about his hesitations, about moral gray areas. This was about Castiel. His angel needed him. And, well, if it had to happen, he was going to make it damn good. He stood, shucking his boxers and tossing them behind him, running a comforting hand over the angel’s shuddering wings. “It’s going to be more than okay.” He announced to the room. Cas shivered and moaned, leaning into his touch.

“Cas, I’m gonna need you to tur—“ He began, but before he could even finish, Cas was spread out on his back, legs and wings spread out, shaking. Dean gulped at the sight, dick straining in appreciation.

He crawled onto the bed between Cas’ legs, keeping eye contact with him. “I’m gonna take this out now, okay? Tell me to stop if you need me to stop, at any time, okay? That’s the only way this is going to work, okay?” He said firmly. Cas nodded, chewing his lip and trying to still himself.

Something about the angel trying his hardest to focus and stay still was a huge turn on for Dean. He’d look into the phenomenon later. At the moment, he occupied his time reaching down to grab the slippery dildo and work it out. Cas’ hole protested, clenching down on it. His feathers stood on end and he bit his lip so hard it bled. Before he knew what he was doing, Dean was leaning up to lick the blood away and kiss the angel softly as he pulled it out, his other hand stroking his wings to calm him. It worked, and the dildo slipped free with little resistance. Dean pulled away to set it aside, and found Castiel staring at him with wide eyes, something in his gaze as if he was discovering a whole new realm of feeling.

Dean kissed him softly again, this time reaching down to take Cas' cock in his hand and gently begin to stroke it. Castiel arched up against him, his breath racing out of him in shock. Dean knew he had rough hands, and that they were callused, but when used the right way, they could be a god send. He knew his body, and he couldn’t wait to get to know Castiel’s. The skin that wasn’t scarred by the pains of the past was soft, but Castiel was firm, his body all sharp angles and lean muscle. He was struck with the desire to map out every inch with his mouth, taste every bead of sweat and slick, lap up his pain and replace it with pleasure the best way he could.

Because this is what he was good at. Taking care of people. Whether it was in the bedroom, in the machine garage, on the street, in a house full of lunatics, when his little brother was sick, picking up his brother’s girlfriend when Sam couldn’t make it. Buying beaten up righteously angry angels on whim.

This is what he was good at, what he was born to do, what he loved to do and what he would never stop doing.

Taking care of people.

Rocking back on his heels, Dean continued to stroke Castiel’s member, revelling in his reactions. Castiel screwed his eyes shut, fighting back whimpers as he fisted his hands in the sheets.

“M-more, please, s-sorry…” He choked out, then cringed, as if ashamed of asking. Oh, they couldn’t have that now, could they?

“Tell me what you want, baby, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. You’re safe, let go. Just let me take care of you.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the angel’s flushed red head.

Castiel’s eyes snapped open. “Oh, y-yes, m-m-more of that I-I-I don’t kn-know if anyone’s e-ever--“ He stammered. Dean smirked in excitement. He loved when he was the first, it meant he could pull out a lot of his old tricks and they would all seem new. He took Cas’ head into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the slit, and Castiel made a little mewling noise that was far too adorable to be associated with blow jobs.

But, this wasn’t a job to Dean. This was an honor. He wanted to worship the angel, like the old days, before slavery altogether.

Although, he doubted the ancient monks had angel dicks in their mouths during morning prayer.

Woah. Way off the trail of thought he was hoping for.

He bobbed his head, and found Cas was a pretty good size. He compensated by circling his fingers in a tight ring around the base where he couldn’t reach, and moved it in time with his own mouth.

Castiel was shaking, drawn tight like a string trying not to move around. Dean reached up to rub circles into his hip bone, trying to get him to relax.

Finally, he pulled away, and Castiel searched his face in confusion. “Don’t be afraid, okay? Let go.” Dean whispered.

Tears welled up in Castiel’s eyes. “I-I don’t kn-know how.” He confided.

Dean smiled, and took Cas’ hand in his own, entertaining their fingers. “Just let me make everything okay, make you feel good.”

“B-but, what about—“ Castiel protested, but Dean cut him off with a kiss again.

“Making you feel good makes me feel amazing. Trust me.” He replied, then returned to what he was doing, kissing up his shaft before taking it back into his mouth.

Slowly, Castiel seemed to relax a little more, and started making breathy little moans, not hiding them back anymore.

Pride swelled up in Dean’s chest. This sure wasn’t how he’d pictured it, but he finally seemed to be getting through to the angel.

 

Gentle. Dean was being so _gentle_ and caring and he never—nobody ever—

Dean's mouth sucking and licking at Castiel's dick sent waves of pleasure through his sense-heightened body. It felt _good_ , and at this moment Castiel didn't know what to make of that, since sex never felt extremely pleasant to him. His mind right now was nothing but a haze amongst this bliss. He now understood why oral sex so well liked.

Never had he imagined he would ever—that someone would ever—it hurt him to think. This was when sensation took over mind. And what a sensation it was.

Dean hummed around his cock, drawing out moans from the back of Castiel's throat. He tried to stay relaxed for Dean, but Castiel couldn't stop from wiggling slightly under Dean's tender care. As Dean continued to bob up and down his cock, he began to trace up and down alongside Castiel's thigh with one hand, leaving what felt like trails of sparks in its wake. With the other, Dean cupped Castiel's balls, tugging them ever so softly after rolling them a bit in his palm. 

The sounds pouring out of Castiel’s mouth were completely out of his control; his consciousness lost to sensation. The hand that was fondling his balls slowly made its way south, a curious thumb circled his dripping hole. Castiel gasped at the touch, hips instantly lurching forward to find more, begging to be filled. Dean teased him only a few moments longer before he dipped a finger inside, raking more noises from Castiel as he brushed against his sensitive walls.

 _"Ahhh,"_ Castiel gasped through pants. A familiar pressure was beginning to build between his legs. "Dean I'm–I'm—" Castiel stuttered as he weakly tried to get Dean off of him. He didn't want to come in Dean's mouth; he didn't think Dean would like that. He was disgusting.

Castiel panicked a little when Dean held him down and swallowed as much of him as he comfortably could, and with that, Castiel came and cried out from the intensity of it all.

" _Dean,_ " was all he could say after that. It had felt so _good_ , it actually felt good. No, not good, _amazing._ Never in his entire life of being a sex slave has anything sexual felt the way Castiel was feeling right now. He had been so sure he understood all there was to sex, but Dean had showed him wrong. 

The haze had lifted slightly and his body felt a bit relieved, but only by a little. There was still something that had to be done.

Castiel turned his blurry eyes to Dean, who was licking a bit of Castiel's come that strayed from his mouth with a smile.

"Sorry," Castiel quickly muttered when he realized what he had just done.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Dean said as he lifted a hand to Castiel's cheek, and he leaned into the touch as soon as it came in contact. "Was that alright?" Dean asked.

"Y-yeah," Castiel huffed with a small happy yet exhausted grin as he and Dean stared into each other's eyes. In Dean's eyes he saw some form of intimacy, one that almost seemed familiar.

The haze returned, and Castiel began to wither with desperation, "Dean," he clung to Dean's firm arms, "please," Castiel begged, slick beginning to flow again from his hole and his dick already beginning to harden again.

Dean's eyes fluttered in realization, "R-right." He positioned himself between Castiel's legs and looked back to the angel, "If I hurt you or you want me to stop, tell me."

Castiel nodded frantically in response and growled, "Fuck me already." It came out harsher than he intended, but the wait was taking too long. He _needed_ Dean.

With that said, Dean hoisted Castiel up a bit by his hips and let Castiel wrap his legs around Dean's waist, pulling Dean closer to him. Dean lined himself up before taking a small, careful thrust into the angel. "Shit," Dean hissed out with a hitched breath when he breached the angel, and Castiel's hole clenched around his length hungrily. Dean seemed a bit hesitant and too careful, as he hadn't really moved since he first penetrated Castiel.

Castiel got impatience with Dean's hesitance and pushed him deeper within himself by pulling him in with his feet that were wrapped together behind Dean's back. Castiel whimpered desperately and clawed at the damp sheets, pleading with his eyes for Dean to do most of the work from here on. His entire body was exhausted and overcome by heat and stimulation. Dean seemed to understand enough as he began to thrust at a slow but deep pace. " _Oh,_ Cas," Dean grunted out, holding Castiel's curved hips tightly.

The grip that Castiel's legs had on Dean began to weaken, and soon his legs fell to the bed, and it left Dean in a difficult position. In a few quick motions, Dean placed Castiel's legs upon his shoulders and returned to gently fucking into him.

Castiel cried out from the new angle that Dean was entering him by, hitting all those hyper-sensitive nerves that sent almost too-intense waves of pleasure each time they were hit or brushed against. Everything felt too much, but somehow, Dean made it good. 

"You're doing so good," Dean spoke in a gentle voice as he caressed Castiel's teary cheek, "So beautiful." Dean stared down at Castiel as if he were the most dearest treasure.

Castiel's wings fluttered against the sheets, "De..." he mewled looking up into Dean's eyes and watch the sweat drip off of the man's brow, then turn his blurry gaze down to Dean's sweat-beaded chest. His labor had left his body fairly toned, and it was quite pleasing to the eye, though, he had proven to be pleasing in many other ways.

Dean ran his hand through Castiel's light golden wings, causing more pornographic noise to escape the angel's quivering lips. The touch made his whole body tense in fearful anticipation, but as he continued to stroke the delicate feathers with care, Castiel began to actually enjoy the sensual touches. It sent tingles down his spine and throughout the rest of his heat-ridden body, and then he was nothing but sensation.

Dean's thrusts began to pick up pace, making the both of them let out harmonious moans of ecstasy. Dean's fingers dug into Castiel's hips as he came with Castiel's name on his lips. He felt Dean's release inside him and the reaction was almost instant, first causing his muscles to tighten to ensure the sperm reached the implant, and when it did, his muscles loosened enough for Dean to pull out comfortably.

Castiel's body finally began to relax after hours or intense sexual anguish, and it was times like these that made him thankful that heats were only temporary, two-to-three days, sometimes four at very most.

Dean collapsed beside Castiel on the bed and turned towards him, both panting from what they had just partaken in. Dean stared at him blissfully, a smile upon his face; but when Castiel didn't return it right away, Dean looked at him with worry, as if he had done something wrong until Castiel said: "Hello, Dean," with a tired voice.

Dean chuckled, "Hey," he panted a bit more, "I didn't... _hurt_ you or anything, did I?" he asked with concern.

Castiel shook his head lightly, "No, not really. It was actually..." Castiel paused for a few moments, "kind of... nice." He blushed a little as he admitted this, although it probably wasn't noticeable by how flushed his face already was.

"Well, that good," Dean said quietly. "So do you feel better now? You're not gonna _die_ o-or anything?"

"I'll be alright." _For now._ Castiel looked at Dean again before moving closer to him, soon being enveloped into a comforting hug. He snuggled close to Dean's chest, breathing in the scent of sweat, sex, and small traces of cologne that still clung to his skin from the day past. "No one's ever been that... _gentle_ before," Castiel muttered, "The men they—they're normally too concerned about their insistent needs instead of how I feel, which I-I suppose is proper. It normally hurts _so_ much and I-I just pray they finish soon because it's—it's too much."

"Did it hurt when I...?" Dean asked again.

"A little." Castiel answered honestly as he looked up into Dean's face, which fell when he heard that, "but that's to be expected." That didn't seem to help either.

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean—"

Castiel held a shaky finger to Dean's lips to silent him. "I didn't mean it like that, or anyway you're thinking. It's the implant it–it amplifies every touch by at least fifty percent than a normal heat, which, I've never had, so this is what I have become used to, or more like what I've come to expect. It's so painful and each time I had intercourse it—it hurt so much that I actually almost wished I were dead.

"But you Dean you... you made it bearable, and that itself is good and I..." Castiel trailed off. He wasn't sure why he was trying to comfort Dean in all this. Maybe it was because of the guilt that he made Dean fuck him when Dean said he didn't want to numerous times before.

"Hey," Dean said softly as he brought a hand up to run his hand through Castiel's hair, "as long as you're alright..." Dean looked down at him with care and drew the angel closer to his body. "How many days do these things normally last?" Dean asked after a few moments of silence.

"Three days," Castiel said hesitantly. He drew in a deep breathe and quickly said, "You don't have to but I'd like it if you stayed for the next time it comes I no you don't have to how stupid of me to ask you wouldn't want to you already did I'm sorry I--"

"Cas, slow down," Dean cut him off, "and if that's what you need Cas, I'm here for you. Let me take care of you."

Castiel felt a tear roll down his cheek, "A-alright," he sniffled and nuzzled closer into Dean's protective chest.

They laid like that for a few minutes before Castiel could feel Dean's chest rising and falling at in a consistent pattern. He must fallen asleep. Castiel knew he should try to get some sleep before his heat hit again, but he still had to calculate all that had just happened.

Dean had been evading and dismissing his every offer up until now. That either said that Dean really did care for him, or that he couldn't let an angel's death be on his conscience. But not, the latter couldn't have been it; the carefulness that Dean showed wasn't something that just anyone would show. No, nobody would have shown such care to an omega.

He really did know that Dean only wanted to care for him but now, after this, he finally believed it. The kindness that Dean always tried his best to show? It was true. He could finally see that it was true.

He had put Castiel's feelings before anything else, and that hasn't happened for a very long time. He even—

Castiel's eyes flew open.

Dean had—did Dean _kiss_ him? His mind had been a blur at that time but there was no mistaking it. Dean _kissed_ him. And it wasn't like the sloppy ones that some of his former clients would give him. No, if he were to compare that one to anything he would have to compare it to...

... _Meg's._

_Oh no._


	8. Make it a Strike

An old western movie was blaring in the living room when Jess returned late from work, the sun already set. She turned the dial down all the way, her head hurting enough from crying the whole car ride home.

She stood a few seconds in silence, and then blushed when she heard a muffled moaning coming from the other side of the wall. She turned the dial back up, and went to find her boyfriend.

Sam was sitting in bed, reading a book. He looked up and grinned when he saw her, setting the crime novel down.

Jess crawled into bed and huffed. "They still going at it?"

Sam grimaced. "When Dean does something, he does it right." Jess shrugged, and Sam frowned at her in concern. "Are you okay, baby? I waited all day to use that line." He reached over, and wiped the hair out of her face.

She curled into his arm, resting her head on his chest. "I just—I had a really hard day at work." She sighed, wiping a stray tear away.

He rubbed a strong, warm hand up and down her back. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Well, first off… this twelve year old little beta boy came in today. His owners got drunk and decided to use him for throwing knife practice." She explained, sniffling. "He was half dead before he even got in the door.

"And then, this Alpha woman came in, just out of her teens, strong as an ox. I knew her, she came in with her owner a lot to get checked out when she strained muscles working too hard back at the other clinic yet. She was a fighter. Her owner got mad at her for not listening to instructions, or something stupid, and—" Jess' voice caught in her throat, and she took a deep breath. "Took a hacksaw, and took off her left wing. She would have lived, would have been able to adapt to the loss of balance, could have lived a long life, and kept working. But she grabbed a scalpel off the table and killed herself. I was the one attending to her, I tried to stop her—I could have. I had the upper hand, my fingers wrapped around hers. But she looked me in the eye, and… I understood. The way she looked at me—I let go of her hand." Jess whispered, like it was some horrible secret.

Sam lifted her up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her between the eyes. "I think you did the right thing." He told her softly.

Jess shook her head, tears spilling over. "How? How can anyone know what the right thing is in this world anymore?" She sobbed.

Sam wiped her tears away with his thumb, kissed the tip of her nose, and then kissed her on the lips before pulling back to look her in the eyes. "You have an amazingly good heart, and a level head on your shoulders. You knew that that angel had a right to her choice. It doesn't seem completely right, but sometimes that's the way to go. You are a good person, and she knew that, and that's why she knew you would let her go. Sometimes… you just have to let go." Sam said.

Jess nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm taking tomorrow off. I just—I can't, you know? I need some time."

Sam nodded. "Sounds good. Hey, how about we go do something? We can invite Dean and Cas and Benny and all of them, go have a good time."

"Where could we go that the angels wouldn't be harassed?" Jess said bitterly.

Sam thought for a second. "You know my friend James? I could pull a few strings, and he might let us use the bowling alley after closing time, just us, you know?"

Jess looked up at him. "Bowling? That sounds really nice." She smiled. Sam laid down, taking her with him, and kicked his shoes off as he placed a kiss in her hair.

\---

Dean flicked on the iPod player on the windowsill of the kitchen, and hummed along happily as he fished through the cupboards for his spices. Cas was still asleep, his heat finally over, and Dean wanted to make him some famous Winchester soup. The angel was pretty tuckered out, after all. Dean, on the other hand, felt great. He felt calmer and more rejuvenated then he had in a long time.

When he was younger, he'd resented how dependent his happiness was on taking care of others. He hadn't understood, back then.

The Beatles wafted from the speakers, and the sun's light was just starting to filter into the kitchen. Dean turned on the stove and stirred the broth as he sprinkled thyme in it, and sang along under his breath.

" _Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
 _Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
 _All your life_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._ "

When this whole heat thing had started, Dean had dreaded the complications that were sure to come afterward. But now that it was afterward, he had a strange sense that everything was going to be fine. After all, things would only be complicated if they let them be.

" _Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
 _Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_  
 _All your life_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to be free._

 _Blackbird fly_  
 _Blackbird fly_  
 _Into the light of the dark black night._ "

God, Castiel was _amazing_. Dean had sensed it when he'd first seen him, dirty and angry and terrified, strapped to the clinic table with his death hanging over his head.

" _Blackbird fly_  
 _Blackbird fly_  
 _Into the light of the dark black night._ "

There was so much weight on those shoulders, contradicted by the strange innocence locked in those blue eyes. How could he be so innocent after the life he lived?

Strangely innocent, yes, but not naive. And far from weak.

And so, _so_ , so amazing.

" _Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
 _Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
 _All your life_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to arise_  
 _You were only waiting for this mome-"_

"Dean?" A rough, sleepy voice called.

"In the kitchen. Want some toast with your soup?" He asked, pouring the finished product in a bowl.

He turned in time to see Cas shuffle into the kitchen. Dean's breath left his body all of the sudden when he saw the angel, with bedhead and wings twitching in attempts to set the messy feathers back in place as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. Some foreign yet familiar emotion swelled in his chest.

"Soup?" Castiel cocked his head at the bowl in Dean's hand.

"Yeah, I made it from scratch. Family recipe. We didn't really eat much the past few days. Well, depending on your definition." Dean smirked at his joke, setting the bowl and spoon at the table.

Castiel blushed and ducked his head as he sat down. He picked up the spoon and swirled it around the bowl, and Dean turned his iPod player down a little bit before pulling out bread. "Dean, I wanted to thank you for aiding me during my heat. I am aware that the situation was not… entirely desirable. I'm sorry for not telling you." He blurted out.

Dean nodded. "It's okay, Cas. Now you know you can trust me, right? You don't have to be so afraid, you don't have to hide things from me. I'm here for you, no matter what. And trust me, the circumstances may not have been ideal, but the situation was. We took care of the issue, and we had fun doing it, right? No harm, no foul. It was what it was, don't feel bad or ashamed or obligated or anything, you know?" Dean explained, casting a smile over his shoulder at the angel.

Castiel nodded. "I understand, Dean. I-I do not feel bad about what happened, not remotely." He said in a low voice, looking back down at the soup and slurping from the spoon.

Something unspoken had entered the atmosphere, and Dean's stomach flipped in reaction to it. He buttered the toast, and then dishes himself some soup. "So, when do your heats hit, and how often and all that, so I know? I mean, once we go North, they have specialty people on hand to remove implants of that kind, but down here, no one really cares enough to be trained in it for cheap, so we're stuck to this schedule for a while—not that that's bad, or anything. Just saying."

"Three to four days a month, at the end of the month. The exact days aren't always certain, as you know, it's not a normal heat." Castiel sighed.

Dean sat down across from him. "Not to pry, but, how long have you had the implant?" He asked, taking a bite of toast.

Castiel prodded at a soggy carrot, his expression dark. "Since the first brothel I was put in, around when I first came here, to the South. I was very young, my heats hadn't even started when they put it in. They didn't even tell me what they were doing — they–they just told me they were going to do a surgery that would make sure I would never be pregnant, so I could be used twenty four seven, per se. I thought… I thought they meant they were taking out what was inside me, my organs, spaying me, so I'd never be able to bear children. I cried for days, I'd thought they'd made me barren. You see, I'd only just been torn away from my existing family, and then the idea I'd never be able to have one of my own? It was…upsetting. It wasn't until I was with a nice old woman that I found out about the implant."

Dean listened, gut twisting itself in knots for that poor, scared, young little angel so many years ago. "Don't worry, Cas, we'll get it taken out first thing when we cross. But as for family… I hope you'll be able to think of us as your family, but I understand if you can't yet." He shrugged.

Castiel didn't reply, just slurped more soup from his spoon. "This is excellent, Dean. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome, Cas." _For everything._

\---

After breakfast, Castiel insisted on doing the dishes while Dean went and took a quick shower.

He came out, toweling his hair dry, to Castiel curled up on the couch watching a show about cheetahs. Dean sat down on the couch, and waited for Cas to stiffen up and offer to change it to whatever Dean wanted, like he always did when watching tv.

Dean was pleasantly surprised when Castiel just smiled at him and scooted to make room on the couch. Dean kicked up his feet and settled into the couch, he didn't have anything against documentaries.

But, before long, he found himself paying more attention to the angel next to him than the tv screen. Castiel made the funniest little reactions to everything he saw on the tv when he was engulfed in the narrator's droning voice and the violent animal scenes. Dean could barely look away.

A showing of manta rays was interrupted by Sam poking his head in the door."You two decent?" He asked, grinning.

Dean threw a throw pillow at him, and Cas' lip turned up in a slight smile at their antics.

"Jess, Benny, Dorothy, Balthazar and I are going bowling, you two in?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Wait, isn't the bowling alley closed on Tuesdays?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, but I pulled a couple favors so it's just us. Wanted to avoid any… incidents." He explained.

Castiel's wings perked up. "What's bowling?"

\---

In about an hour or so later, Dean, Sam, Jess, and Castiel all pulled into the bowling alley parking lot with Benny, Dorothy and Balthazar already there waiting for them.

"Oh, Cassie!" Balthazar rushed to Castiel and pulled him into a tight hug as soon as Castiel got out of Dean's car.

Castiel's wings flared in surprise, "Balthazar you're—squishing me." He managed to say under Balthazar's tight embrace.

Balthazar laughed lightly, "Sorry," he said with a gentle smile. He was just so glad that Castiel was well, that he was here. Castiel could tell he had worried about him. Balthazar let him go and turned to the others, who were starting to walk towards the entrance of the bowling alley.

Jess had explained to him a little bit beforehand what bowling was and how you play. You take the ball, roll it down the lane and try to hit the pins. It couldn't be that hard, right?

As they entered, Castiel quickly scanned his surroundings for anything that could be considered threatening. Sam had said that they and the man that worked here, James, were the only ones who'd be here today, but he couldn't stop old habits.

"Welcome, guys!" said a man, _James_ , Castiel immediately assumed.

"Hey James, thanks again for this." Sam said, giving James a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Eh, no problem! Everyone needs to let loose sometime, even you guys," James motioned towards Castiel and Balthazar, whom both peaked at him from behind their saviors' backs.

"Mhh, thanks," Balthazar said with lop-sided smile.

"You betcha. So do you guys wanna do some bowling or what? Here, take your shoes off here and I'll set y'all up with bowler ones." James flashed them all a grin, then quickly set off to behind the counter to the shoe shelf.

The group took their shoes off and placed them neatly on the shelf provided for them, and set off to get the ones for bowling. Dean helped Castiel get the right size, and as soon as they got their proper sizes, two groups were formed. On one group was Jess, Sam, Benny and Dean while on the other was Balthazar, Castiel and Dorothy.

"Have you bowled before, Dorothy?" Castiel asked when she went to find a ball.

"Yeah, but only a few times. I'm not that great at it, to be honest." She finally found one she deemed worthy and took a few steps toward their lane, preparing herself to roll the ball. Castiel watched carefully as she ran up to the end of the lane and let the ball roll from her fingers. The ball flew down the lane, but began to curve to the left as it got closer and closer to the pins. "C'mon, go right," Dorothy said shooing her hand in the desired direction as if the ball would listen. It, unfortunately, did not listen, but it did manage to hit one pin down. "Damn."

Balthazar laughed at her and she shot him a look. "What was _that_?" He teased.

"I hit one pin. That's better than nothing, so you shush." She grabbed another ball and went again, this time hitting three more pins. "There," she turned to Balthazar, "beat that!"

Balthazar stood up to go retrieve a ball for himself. "I'll have you know that I am an expert bowler."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that." Dorothy said as she took a seat between Castiel and Jess.

Balthazar flashed her a cocky grin and sent the ball down the lane, flaring his colorful wings out slightly for better balance. They drooped when the ball rolled straight into the gutter. "You can't be serious." he muttered under his breath in disbelief.

"Ha! What was that you were saying?" Dorothy chuckled. "That you're an 'expert bowler'?"

Balthazar scoffed, "I lost my touch, give me a break!" He grabbed another ball, "I mean after all, I _have_ been enslaved for nine years. During that time I _couldn't_ exactly touch up my exceptional skills. Well, the ones for _bowling_ , that is." Dorothy quieted after that, expression darkened. "Oh, lighten up," Balthazar reassured, "we're here to have fun!" His wings fidgeted as he turned to try at it again. The more Castiel watched everyone bowl, he came to the conclusion that it mustn't be as easy as it appeared.

"How old are you, Balthazar?" Jess asked.

Balthazar turned to her and quirked a smile, "Take a guess."

"You're really gonna make me do this?" she asked. Balthazar nodded and waited. Jess hesitated as she looked him up and down, "Twenty... eight?" Jess winced as she made her guess.

"What! You think I'm _that_ old?" Balthazar smiled, "No, I'm twenty-six." He turned away from her and sent the ball rolling down the lane with a forceful throw, curving right, though managing to hit three pins. "Improvement, I suppose." he muttered quietly before turned to Castiel, "Your turn, Cassie!"

Castiel exchanged glances with the rest of his group before he hesitantly got up and slowly made his way to the bowling balls. A orange and white marble ball caught his eye, so he decided that that was the ball he wanted to use. He put his fingers in the holes and picked it up. The weight of the ball caught him off guard and it fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

Dean jumped out of his seat and rushed to Castiel's side. "Cas, are you okay?" He looked at Castiel with concern.

"It—it was heavier than I expected." He looked down at the ball, then back at Dean before going to pick it up again. Sure, it was heavy and his limbs were still a bit weak from his heat, but with now knowing what to expect, he picked it up with little struggle at all.

"You sure? I mean after..." Dean trailed off.

"Yes, I am perfectly fine." Castiel gave him a small smile.

"Alright," Dean backed off a bit, "good luck!"

"Thank you." Castiel made his way to the lane.

"Throw it right down the middle!" Balthazar called to him.

Castiel held the ball of a few moments and tried to focus. He took a deep breath, pulled his arm back, and sent the ball flying straight down the lane, hitting all the pins down with a loud crash, earning Castiel a beautiful strike. Castiel stared down the lane with surprise.

He turned around when everyone began cheering.

"Way to go Cas!" Dean gave him a wide grin.

"You make it look so easy." said Dorothy.

Castiel's face flushed from all the attention, "I was just lucky. I'm—I'm probably really bad at this."

"Nonsense. You're a natural!" Balthazar praised.

"Alright alright alright, it's my turn to go." Dorothy got up from her seat and went to go at it again.

"Dean, you're up!" Benny exclaimed.

"Good job, Cas." Dean gave him a small pat on the shoulder and went back to his lane.

Castiel stood there for a moment, basking in the warm feeling that the praise left. It was a rare moment that Castiel felt this way, and even though it was selfish, he wanted this feeling to stay for at least a little bit longer.

Balthazar beckoned Castiel to come and sit with him, so he did. Their wings brushed in a congratulatory manner and Balthazar smiled, "Is there anything else you're good at that I don't know about?"

"I have no idea," Castiel answered, "Probably not."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Cassie. You are great, really." Balthazar nudged Castiel with his wing again. Castiel only shrugged and watched Dorothy bowl. She managed to knock five down. "Well, that wasn't _awful._ " Balthazar complimented, or that was what he intended it to be.

"Well gee, thanks!" Dorothy plopped down on her seat. "Now go get yourself more gutter balls."

"I'll try my best not to." He gave her a curt smile and got himself ready for another go. Balthazar rubbed his hands together, then picked up a ball and rolled it towards the pins, knocking eight of the down. "Ha!" He turned to Dorothy, "Now how about that?"

"Eh, I've seen better," Dorothy stated, crossing her legs. Balthazar gave her an unamused look.

Castiel smiled and turned his gaze to Dean. He seemed to be conversing with Sam, but stopped talking when he caught Castiel's gaze and gave him a small wave. Castiel's wings fluttered when he realized he was caught and slowly waved back.

"Cas, you're up." Dorothy said, bringing Castiel back to the game at hand. He silently nodded and rose from his seat, repeating the steps he had before and send the ball down the lane. A smirk appeared on his face when he got another strike, thundering of falling pins applauding his victory.

"Okay now that's just not fair." Balthazar slumped in his seat and gave Castiel a funny look. "You _must_ tell me your secret."

"You just... make the ball hit the pins."

"If only it were that easy." Dorothy sighed and got up for her turn. "Good job, Castiel." She smiled warmly.

"Thank you. I'm sorry that my score has surpassed yours." Castiel said with sincerity.

"That's nothing to be sorry about! That the point of the game, hit as many pins as you possibly can. You're definitely doing just fine at that."

Castiel nodded at what Dorothy said and sat back down. Looking to the next lane, it appeared that it was now Dean's turn. Castiel looked up at the scoreboard. Jess was doing the best so far, but Dean was only numbers behind.

After the past few _very_ intimate days with Dean, Castiel saw him in a different light. Maybe it was only because that heavy blanket of mistrust had finally lifted by the proof that Dean truly did care for him. A trust had begun to blossom, and there were some other emotions in the mix that Castiel was a bit wary of, but he just tried to focus on the good that Dean was. The inner voice inside him discouraged the relationship that was beginning to form, but Castiel pushed it away each time it arose. It may be a bit foolish for him to put as much trust in Dean as he had now in such short of a time, but it was just so easy to do so, with the way that Dean had treated him. Never before had someone treated him like Dean had.

His thoughts drifted from reality to the tender actions that had been done a few days past.

...

 _"Dean,"_ Castiel moaned, legs spread with Dean in between, lapping at the sweet slick that leaked from deep within his core. Dean's tongue circled and twirled around the tender pink, sending wave of pleasure and desperation through Castiel's heat-filled body. His light golden wings flapped and fidgeted against the sweat lined sheets, seeming to make Dean amused by his reaction.

Dean kept the angel's cheeks spread with eagerness, making circles on Castiel's sensitive skin with his thumbs. He tried to stay still for Dean, but he wasn't completely able to control his body when he was in this state. Dean seemed to mind not in the slightest as he continued to tend to Castiel's needs with the utmost care. He didn't need to do all that he did, but Castiel was guiltily happy he did so. Whatever he was doing right now was _amazing_.

A string of erotic sounds escaped from the angel's lips as Dean's tongue breached the tight ring of muscle. He could feel Dean's tongue inside him, lapping against his walls as if it was the best thing the man had ever tasted.

Castiel mewled. "More,"

Dean withdrew and looked at Castiel through thick lashes and said mischievously, "You want more? I'll give you more."

...

"Cassie? Cas? Castiel!"

Castiel was yanked from his steamy memories and looked up to find Balthazar looking at him oddly. Right, they were bowling.

"It's your turn. Hey, are you feeling alright? Your face is as red as a tomato" Balthazar said.

"Y-yeah I'm fine I—I just need to use the restroom." Castiel cleared his throat, then walked away quickly. The restroom wasn't hard to find; he quickly rushed into the womens'.

Just as he turned on the faucet, Balthazar came in. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern.

Castiel looked at himself in the mirror. He felt fine but his face was definitely red. Was... was he _blushing_? Why would he be doing such a thing? "Yes yes, I'm fine." Castiel flustered.

"You seemed pretty out of it back there. Were you... were you thinking of something _naughty_?" Balthazar guessed with a quirked brow. Castiel's eyes widened and Balthazar grinned. He was caught. "You _were_! Since when does Castiel blush like a virgin at the thought of something dirty? Was it Dean? You were thinking about Dean, weren't you?"

Castiel smiled smugly, "Yeah,"

"If he made you smile like that—Cassie, you have to tell me _everything_."

Castiel licked his lips, "Well... it arrived after I said goodnight to you through text message—"

"Did you tell Dean?"

"No, I didn't—"

"Then how did he know? When did he—"

"I'll get to that part soon enough if you just let me talk." Balthazar kept quiet so Castiel continued, "In the morning, Jess came in the room and found me, figured out about the implant on her own—"

"Yeah well that's not hard once you see what an omega in heat usually looks like."

"Balthazar, please shut up. I can't tell you anything if you keep interrupting."

"Alright alright, please, continue."

Castiel sighed, "Well, she must have went and got Dean because the next thing I know is he's in the room sucking me off."

"He _what?_ " Balthazar asked with amusement and a hint of disbelief.

"Yeah," Castiel nodded, "I never felt anything like that before it was..."

"Good?"

Castiel chuckled, "'Good's an understatement." He smiled sweetly at the memory of it. "After he finished that, he fucked me but it was, it was different."

"Different _good_ , different _bad_?"

"No no it's was—it was good, definitely good. I never thought it could feel that way."

Balthazar gave him a sincere smile, "Sex is, supposedly, supposed to feel good. But," Balthazar sighed, "that's rarely the case for people like us," Balthazar cleared his throat and put on a smile, "I'm glad that he takes such good care of you."

"Yeah, me too." Castiel looked down to his feet with a smile. "It's more than just that though he—everything he does is done with such care, whether it's just talking to me or eating me out it's—"

" _Wait_ wait wait wait wait wait. Did you really just say that Dean _ate you out_?" Balthazar asked with surprise. Castiel's face began to redden, "Holy mother of—" His colorful-winged friend stared at him with amused awe.

"Balthazar, we did a lot of things. And—and during that time i-it never felt as good as I did then." Castiel confessed.

"Would... you want to do it again with him?"

Castiel smiled shyly and nodded.

 

Dean froze next to the cracked doorway on his way to make sure the angels were alright.

"Would…you want to do it again with him?"

A silent moment, and the sound of hands clapping together, "Oh my god!" He heard Balthazar exclaim happily. “This could be it - you could _actually_ have a healthy sexual relationship with someone! Well, maybe more than just sexual…” Dean felt his face flush red.

"Bal!” Castiel scolded, sounding flustered. “I-I-I don’t know how I feel towards Dean, okay? All I know is that something...something good happened over the past few days, a-and I liked it.” There was a pause. “Does that finally mean that I’m getting better?” He asked hopefully. It took Dean a moment, but when he realised what Castiel was meaning, his fell. _Nothing is wrong with you,_ he wanted to tell him. 

But Balthazar beat him to it. “What? Cassie - no, no, they’re nothing wrong with you. You’ve always been good. What your feeling is supposed to be completely natural and normal. You _know_ what we were forced to do was wrong, right?” 

“...Yes.” 

“It’s okay for you to feel good, Cas. And as I said, it’s completely natural. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I-I know it’s just…” 

“‘Just’ what?” 

Cas sighed. “They really care about us—Dean really cares about me, and it's just… holy shit. I-I’m scared I think… I feel _desire_ towards him, a-an-and I haven’t felt that for someone in years.”

Dean felt his heart skip a beat, and his mind flashed to the the last day if Cas’ heat.

...

_Dean loved sucking Cas off. Loved how he tasted, loved giving him pleasure, watching him claw at the sheets with blown out eyes. He pulled back, wiping the come off his jaw with a triumphant grin. He was still hard, but Cas probably needed a break—_

_Before he could even finish his thought, Cas jumped up and kissed Dean hard, rolling him onto his back and straddling him, running his hands over his torso. Dean gasped for breath, blinking up at the angel._

_"My turn. I haven't spent my whole life learning nothing, after all." Castiel whispered in his ear, almost devilishly. Before Dean could comprehend that sentence, Cas was sinking onto his cock, fucking himself on Dean desperately and throwing back his head, wings fanning out to block the light. Dean reached behind him and wrapped his hands around the headboard to ground himself as Castiel rode him, twisting his hips every which way as he did, getting just the right angle and squeezing him so tightly he saw stars behind his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat he was so overcome with pleasure._

_Castiel leaned forward and pried Dean's hands off the headboard, and drew them up, coaxing Dean to bury his fingers in those amazing wings. Deep inside Castiel, with his hands wrapped up in his wings, Dean found a whole new dimension of euphoria. He never wanted to let go._

…

Dean shook the memory out of his head, not wanting to pop a boner in the middle of a bowling alley. He knocked on the bathroom door."You guys okay in there?" He called, pretending he hadn't just overheard them.

"Oh, yes, uh, we'll be right out, sorry." Castiel replied.

"It's fine, just wanted to make sure you were alright. We're about to take a break and order some dinner." He informed them, then turned back. Balthazar came shooting out of the bathroom, Castiel behind him, looking a little flushed. They hurried to where Jess, Sam, Dorothy and Benny were sitting at a table, James holding a pad to take their orders.

Dean ordered burgers for him and Castiel, Jess and Sam both ordered salads, Dorothy ordered fried chicken, and both Benny and Balthazar ordered steak fries.

"Anything to drink?" James asked.

"A beer all around, thanks." He handed the menu back.

James glanced at him. "Er, even for the angels?" he asked.

"Yeah." Dean replied. "If you guys want, that is."

"Hell yes, my good man." Balthazar declared.

Castiel shifted, "I don't know, Bal, I've never had alcohol before, the only drugs I've had were…" He said uncertainly to his friend.

Balthazar nudged him. "Exactly, Cassie! You gotta take all the opportunities you can, before someone rips them away from you." He said, turning to smile at James.

James nodded, and headed to the kitchen. Soon, their food arrived.

Dean felt himself flush as he heard Cas moan obscenely when he tasted the burger. "These make me very happy." He explained around a mouthful of food. Something swelled in Dean's chest, something he knew but didn't want to analyze.

They finished their food, and cracked open a round of beers. Castiel, before understanding what he was supposed to do, chugged the entire thing. Balthazar laughed, but Castiel just sat there.

"Dude, you don't feel anything?" Dean exclaimed.

"Uh, no. Am I supposed to?" He asked.

"Hey James, bring Cas here two more beers! I wanna see how this works out." Dorothy insisted. Castiel blushed, but complied, and ended up throwing back five whole beers with no reaction.

Balthazar demanded to try as well, to see if it was an angel thing, but it wasn't. He was soon blabbering, sprawled across the table. "Y'know, it's been nine damned years since I've ever felt this—happy, _safe_. You guys, you guys are a great bunch of people like people don't just go _buying_ an angel just because it's– _his_ friend’s worried ‘bout him. No they just–just do whate’er they please to us like it's no problem. What, feelin’s? Nah, it's not like we have _those,_ oh no."

Balthazar sat up in a drunken slouch and continued his babbled rant, "It _hurts_ it—it _really,_ really hurts. Do they not realize what the hell they're doing? They think we're low ‘n stupid, and our only place is to serve beneath 'em. Like when they took me; I'm havin' a fight late at night with my folks and I 'ave to go outside and cool off. So I'm walkin' down a dark lit street, just a block away from home, and all of a sudden I'm gettin' this needle shoved in m' neck and a hand coverin' my mouth 'fore everythin' goes black. In the few seconds 'fore that, I realized that the fight wasn't even that big o' deal, and I wanna go say sorry ‘cause I _knew_ what was happenin', 'n how I ignored all the warnings I grew up hearin', and that I would probably never get to say sorry to 'em."

The cheery facade that Balthazar always held began to fade, showing his true nature as he continued telling his story; scared and nervous. "When I come to, I got this strapped on my neck," he put his hand to the collar on his neck, "and—a-and I fought 'em, I-I wasn't—I couldn't—I didn't want t’ accept what I now am. Y'go from bein' someone to just some _thing_ , just like that. Th-they make sure you know that." Balthazar shivered at the memory. "Why do they think it's okay to do this to us, _why_?" he asked in a whisper, "Are we not people too? Am I really not more than a sex toy?"

"Hey," Dorothy got up and slowly embraced the drunken angel, whom snuggled into her arms like a child would with their mother, "You are a wonderful person, and the way the South works it's—it's extremely messed up." She lifted Balthazar's chin and looked into his eyes, "Say after me: I am a person."

"I-I am a person." Balthazar echoed.

"That's right," Dorothy helped Balthazar down from the table, "I think you had enough to drink. Need to go home?"

Balthazar nodded, "Just gotta say bye to Cassie." Dorothy nodded with a smile. "You smell good," he quickly added. They smiled and chuckled a bit of that comment and watched him as he walked towards his beloved friend.

"Bye Cassie, I love you sooooo much!" Balthazar squeezed Castiel. Castiel smiled and bade Balthazar goodbye with a brush of his wing.

Dean watched Benny and Dorothy lead Balthazar out the door. "Did you already know that story?" He asked Castiel, who was watching his friend go with a sad expression.

"Yes." Cas sighed grimly.

Jess laid her hand on his. "Let's get out of here."

\---

They were halfway through the silent ride home, when suddenly Castiel burst into tears in the backseat. Dean was so surprised, they almost veered over the line.

Jess wrapped an arm around him. "Castiel? Are you alright?" She asked in concern.

Castiel wiped at his tears, but they didn't stop. "I-I'm okay, I just, I just, that was the best heat of m-ma entire life, and I just, like. Woah. My life kin'a sucks, don't it?" He slurred.

Jess pursed her lips. "I think it's a side effect of his transplant. Delayed reaction to intoxication." She explained.

"Fucking perfect." Sam sighed.

“I can’t believe I forgot about this.” 

"It was _perfect_!" Castiel exclaimed. " _Dean_ is perfect. Did you know th-that? He-he—" Castiel dissolved into gross sobbing, hiccuping and sniffing. Dean glanced back in alarm. "He sucked _my_ dick! It was _’mazing_!. I ne-r…" He coughed, then slumped over to lay on Jess's lap. Dean turned beat red, fingers tightening on the wheel. Sam grinned at him.

"Uh, yeah, Cas, thanks for the praise, but maybe we should keep it a little PG back there." Dean called nervously. The angel paid no heed.

"Ma whole life, I have sucked _so_ many dick, _hundreds_ o’ dicks! But never, not once, in return, till now!" Castiel lamented, Jess petting his hair awkwardly, trying not to laugh. "But _not just dicks_ , oh no, other things too! I’ve had to lick _so many things_! My _tastebuds_ are more traumatized than _I_ am!" Castiel exclaimed.

Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"It's not funny!" Jess hissed.

"Oh, it is, it really is,” He corrected, tears still flowing down his face. “Once, I had ate somethin’ that didn’t agree, and I just kept _burping_. _Really loud_ burps. And I went t’ go suck this guy off b’cause of _course_ that’s what he wanted, so I go ‘n I’m ‘bout to put it in my mouth but then - I _burped_! Oh,” he moved his arms dramatically, a new waves of tears streaming down his cheeks. “I got this guy stickin’ his dick in my face and what do I do, I _burp_ , right at his dick. Who does that, y’know? I didn’t _mean_ to, but it happened. Ta say he was unimpress’d would be an understatement. I got quite the beatin’ after that one.” 

Cas rubbed at his snotty nose with his knuckle. Sam passed him a tissue, and Castiel blew his nose. 

“Better?” Jess asked. 

Castiel nodded and handed the tissue back to Sam, not noticing the man’s grimace as he quickly discarded the soggy tissue. 

But Castiel was not done yet. “ _God_ ,” he began to cry again, “I'm _so glad_ I'm not dead! I was _so_ fuckin' _scared_. I was ready ta break off my arms to get off that table. Until you two swooped in, like, angels, or the opposite of angels or somfin." Castiel sighed.

He babbled the rest of the ride home. When he tried to get out of the car, he almost fell over before Dean caught him.

"His implant really screws him up, doesn't he? He's only had a few beers!" Sam exclaimed.

Jess sighed. "I should have realized before you let him, I'm sorry."

Dean shook his head, and scooped the angel up bridal style. "It's alright. I'll tuck him into bed. He'll sleep it off."

Jess shrugged. "He'll have a nasty hangover, but he should be fine by noon tomorrow."

"Thanks. Night, guys." Dean bade them farewell, and struggled to carry a mumbling angel up three flights of stairs.

Finally at their apartment, Dean hurried to Castiel's room, and gently set him on the bed. He figured Cas could want some space after spending his whole heat with Dean.

He pulled the blankets over Cas and tucked him in. "Night, Cas." Dean said fondly, running a hand through the angel’s hair before turning to go.

The angel snuggled into the pillows, smacking his lips. "G'night, Meg."

Dean paused in the doorway, frowning. He shook his head, it was probably nothing. Damn, talk about a lightweight angel.


	9. The Poisoned Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underneath the skin there's a human  
> Buried deep within there's a human  
> And despite everything I'm still human  
> But I think I'm dying here
> 
> Woken up like an animal  
> I'm all ready for healing  
> My mind's lost with nightmares streaming  
> Woken up (kicking screaming)
> 
> \- Human By Daughter

In his heavy, drunken sleep, Castiel dreams; dreams of his past fear that had been consumed by love.

...

Castiel was on the run. Gran, the sweet old lady who had owned him and treated him almost like one of her own, had passed away in the night, and that gave him very few options. He could either call to report her dead and await to be purchased by someone else, given that she had no kin that he could be given to. Or, he could run, and that was what he chose to do, even though that could have very well been a terrible idea. It was a game of chance, and he was willing to play it. At the time, it seemed like a reasonable idea to the twelve-year-old omega. There was no way he wanted to go back to the life he was originally sold into.

He hid his wings and collar under Gran's late husband's old turtleneck sweater; he didn't think she would have minded much. What use was it to her now?

He did feel sad about her passing; she had been kind to him and treated him like he was someone, and that was something that nobody had done in a long time. She would want him to run away, he thought, to run away and not get caught. Castiel didn't know how long he could live like that, on the run without being caught or sniffed out, but he would fight for this tiny freedom with everything that he had. He wished with every fiber in his body not to be taken back into slavery, being shoved in small dark places only to be taken out to be violated and tortured. No, he couldn't let himself go back to that, never, ever again.

It was the season of spring, weather mild and breezy, the type of weather that it wouldn't be surprising to find a young boy wearing a sweater. If he stayed away from roaming angels, he would be fine. Right?

It was becoming late in the day, dinner time, Castiel's stomach told him. He had walked away from the residential area of town and was now in the outskirts of the busy city center. That wasn't exactly where he wanted to be, but truth be told, he was lost, and had very little knowledge of the city's streets.

Castiel's young heart pounded heavily against his chest and he flinched at every sound, looking around with wide fearful eyes. It wasn't always going to be like this, was it? If being on edge every waking hour meant he'd be free, he supposed he could stick through it. He’s been through worse.

Castiel walked down a street where abandoned buildings stood in desolation and crumbles across from one another. Trash and rubble were scattered across the street, tucked alongside the curbs and clinging to the sides of the bleak and graffitied brick walls of the once prominent structures. Nobody was in sight; this place would make do.

The small angel clutched onto the straps of the small pack slung over his shoulders and looked around himself once more before walking into one of the buildings through a squeaky door. The interior was barren, if you excused the few beer bottles and empty spray cans. Words and gang symbols were scrawled against the walls, along with crude drawings and swears. Castiel slowly walked by and looked at every piece of art that the walls had gathered over how many years they were left abandoned. He was drawn to the vibrant colors and unique shapes that he could only assume were words. It marveled him how someone could think of doing something so creative and complex like this. Creativity had no bounds, he remembered, and cringed at that reality.

He carried on down a dim hallway and found a room with short walls that formed what were once cubicles. Castiel's brow furrowed when his eyes landed on a symbol that associated with the angel activists. He walked closer to it, running his fingers along the black paint and traced the outline. Humans fighting for his freedom had been here. With that in mind, he thought that maybe this place was safe, that a mere symbol would protect him.

A painful rumble from Castiel's stomach broke through the eerie silence. He winced at the hunger; he hasn't eaten all day. In the morning, an hour or so later that he had found that Gran had passed, he had taken the small backpack and filled it with a few of his clothes and some food. He wanted to save as much food as he could, so he decided to only eat once a day. If his plan worked and he didn't get captured, he would eventually run out of food and would have to get some by stealing. How he was going to do that without getting caught, he wasn't sure. 

Looking over his shoulder once more, he stepped into one of the cubicles and sat against the cold wall. Castiel winced and pulled away from the wall, pain shooting through his wings. They were sore from being bound all day, and lying against them like that only worsened the dull pain that already flowed through them. Nobody else was in the building, he reminded himself. He was safe in here; he could take his sweater off, at least for a little while. Grabbing the bottom of the turtleneck, he began to pull it off, struggling when it caught around his collar. With the sweater covering his face and resisting his tugs, he began to panic, becoming claustrophobic.

"Get-get it off!" he squealed at the turtleneck, fingers working on prying it off his collar. It took a few moments, but it did come off, and when it did, he threw it across the cubicle and curling into a ball, letting out quiet sobs.

He was tired, he was hungry. He was scared, and so, so alone. Castiel felt like everyone was out to get him and make him their little bitch, even the shadows.

Another pulsation of hunger pains came flooding from his belly. His wings fought painfully against the strip of cloth that Castiel had tied them to his back with. Castiel sniffled, wiped the tears from his cheek, and untied the tight strip. Sprouts of light golden feathers shot out from behind Castiel's back. A sigh of relief rippled through the air as the little angel stretched out his wings, trying to work out all the kinks.

When his wings felt satisfactory, he sat back down and rummaged through his backpack, grabbing one of the sandwiches that he made. The contents it contained were a few chunks of chicken, cheese, and lettuce. It was a bit dry, but Castiel ate it happily. With a bottle of water, he washed it down.

His meal was half way done when he noticed a wrench lying beside the sweater that he threw across his small space. Placing down his sandwich, he got up and grabbed the wrench, examining it in his hand. It was of fair size, rather light in his hand. Rust spotted it like freckles on a child, yet it still seemed to be able to serve it's purpose. It was abandoned here, just like these buildings, just like Castiel. Never did Castiel think he could identity with a rusty wrench.

The sound of scuffling feet and low voices entered the hallway. Castiel tensed and held onto the wrench with a death grip. No, no he wouldn't go back. He _wouldn't go back!_ The voices became louder and louder; they were coming closer. The threats' voices were too quiet for Castiel to make out, but they sounded young. How many were there? Did they know he was here, or were they just here by chance? Chance, Castiel was beginning to this that chance was against him. Pity.

"When are we gonna clean this place up; it's a sty!" said a boy, kicking an empty can. The can flew through the air and just so happened to fly far and precise enough to hit Castiel on the head. A yelp escaped his mouth before he froze and covered it with a sweaty hand.

"Did you hear that?" asked a feminine voice. "Over there." Tears welled in Castiel's eyes as dread and hatred filled the constant emptiness in his chest. As they walked closer to the place that was once his refuge, he bit his quivering lip and and watched the entrance with determination. He would not like some _kids_ take him back. The steps got closer, closer, closer. Castiel jumped in a startled way when the young female spotted him. She looked at him with shock, "U-umm—"

"Come any closer and I-I'll bash your head open!" Castiel threatened in a shaky but firm voice, wrench in hand and wings flared.

"Hey, shhhh, it's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you," she said as if she were talking to an injured animal. She slowly raised her hands and took a step towards Castiel. His breath hitched and he rose the wrench higher with a shaky hand.

"Who did you find?" the male voice asked, stopping his steps behind the girl when his eyes landed and Castiel.

"I may be small but I can take the both of you out s-so back off!" Castiel warned. Their eyes traveled from his collar to his wings, to the half-eaten sandwich resting on his backpack and the sweater on the floor.

"Hey hey no, it's okay. We don't want to hurt you, promise," the boy reassured. Castiel's brow furrowed as he glared, tears threatening to leave his frightened eyes.

"I'm Meg, and this here's Zack. We're angel activists," the girl — Meg — explained slowly, making sure Castiel understood everything she said. "We—we can help you."

"You're just kids." Castiel said after a few moments silence.

"That's true, but we're the best thing you got. It's dangerous to be out here alone, especially for an omega as yourself." said the boy named Zack.

"I don't need your help." Castiel gritted, not wanting some dumb human kids pitty.

Meg looked him in the eye. "I know you're tough, I mean, you made it this far already. But hun, y'know if you get caught, it'll be much worse than whatever horrors you have already been put through."

Castile knew what Meg said was true. The punishment for running away was grave. Multiple outcomes were possible if he got caught. He could get the soles of his feet caned, burned, or have them cut off altogether. He could be swiftly sold to the most twisted souls who take pleasure in showing off angels with missing limbs as they cry out in pain from being fucked into by large and obscure objects, or have his legs broken and forced to heal grotesquely. Or — Castiel stopped thinking about it.

Castiel heard Meg's point. He really had no other choice than to stay with these kids he just met. Slowly, he lowered the wrench and his wings, but he kept his fiery gaze on the both of them.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Meg asked gently.

"C-Castiel," Castiel stuttered, then said strongly, "My name is Castiel."

"Castiel, huh?" Meg said, testing the name on her tongue. "Can't say I've ever met a 'Castiel' before."

"Well I can't say I've ever met a 'Meg' before either." Castiel said in return with a bit of venom.

Meg smiled, "I think I'm gonna like you, Clarence."

Castiel looked at her with confusion. "My name is not 'Clarence'." Meg laughed and Zack smiled. Castiel didn't get what was so funny.

"We were just about to eat. Would you like some food, Castiel?" Zack asked, reaching into his bag and pulling out so bread. Castiel eyes it suspiciously as the two humans sat down on the ground.

"Come, sit with us." Meg said.

Hesitantly, Castiel sat down, eyes warily moving from Zack to Meg. He had been placed in a position he hadn't expected, forced to converse with these strange humans kids. Zack broke the bread into three, then handed one to Meg, who bit into the breads happily. Zack handed Castiel a piece, and he stared at it for a few moments before taking it. He had only met these people; of course he was hesitant. It wasn't like he hadn't been drugged by food before. But they were eating it so... it had to be alright. Castiel brought the bread to his mouth and bit into it gingerly. It tasted fresh, moist. His face relaxed as they all ate quietly.

"The others should be coming soon." Zack said after he finished his bit of bread.

" _Others?_ " Castiel's fear began to creep back.

Meg gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Clarence, they won't harm you. But if they dare try, they'll have to go through me."

...

It was the vigorous pounding in his head that woke Castiel from his dreams, overcoming the memory of what he had just dreamt. He immediately groaned, hiding his head under his pillow to block out the painful light in his room.

"Cas, you awake?" Dean asked, peering into the bedroom.

Castiel groaned painfully, face squished against the bed, "I don't feel well at all. I think I'm going to vomit."

"Well don't do that just yet; lemme get you a pail." Dean left the door ajar as he ran to retrieve a pail. Castiel hid his head further under the pillow, trying to block out any of the light that seemed to fuel his pounding headache.

Dean returned to Castiel's side with a pail and just as he did, Castiel threw up into it. "Ugh, I never want to drink _ever again._ " He threw up some more. “Never.” _Heave_ “A-again.”

"That's it, you're doing good," Dean said as he wiped Castiel's face with a cool damp cloth. "Jess says that it'll pass by noon." Castiel only continued groaning in response. Dean grimaced, "She says that your implant makes it worse for you. I mean, you only had a couple beers and you look like you chugged a fifth of vodka at a sorority party." He chuckled, unable to help himself.

Castiel shot him a glare. "What about Bal? He doesn't have an implant." He rasped, throat raw apparently.

"Oh, he's just a fucking lightweight."

Castiel snorted into the pillow, face splitting into a grin and eyes crinkling. Dean loved the way he smiled, whether it was the mirthful smiles that lit up his whole face and scrunched up his eyes, or the soft little half smiles that it seemed like only Dean could see. Both filled him with a warmth, and suddenly he found himself smiling too, no matter what.

"It'll pass, don't worry. Want some toast to help with the nausea?" Dean offered.

Cas groaned and leaned over the bucket again, but nodded. Dean patted him on the back and headed off to make toast.

While he was waiting for the toaster to do it's job, he called Benny. Balthazar wasn't that bad off, just a headache. At least they didn't have two miserable angels on their hands.

"He is bitchier than normal, though, but I guess its to be expected. " Benny said over the phone, in a fond tone.

" _Are you talking shit, you wingless Neanderthal? I never had to deal with this at the brothel. Granted, I was too busy getting fucked to be talked shit about, but there's no such thing as a free lunch. Well, unless the bastard doing me had a food kink. Damn, that Jeremy was a creep, but he made good lemon meringue._ " He heard a muffled Balthazar from the other end, and Dorothy reprimanding him. Benny laughed, and they hung up.

Dean poured himself some coffee then buttered the toast, and brought it back to the angel. "I tried not to put too much butter." He explained as he handed the dessert plate with toast to Castiel. The angel was curled up on the bed, obviously feeling slightly better. He nibbled at the toast and made a please sound, and Dean sat at the foot of the bed.

"Was last night fun?" Cas asked.

"Besides getting drunk and crying over how great my blow jobs are?" He smirked.

Castiel groaned. "I had hoped that was a horrible dream. Oh god, you haven't told Balthazar, have you? He'll never let it go. Never. Trust me, I once farted on a client, and Zachariah had to refund the guy, and then every time they would take me out of my cell, Balthazar would call out and remind me not to 'cut the cheese'. Every. Time. _Without fail._ " He lamented.

Dean choked on his coffee, gasping for breath after he swallowed. Castiel laughed at him, then groaned at the noise and clutched his head.

"Do you not want Balthazar to know I give great blow jobs, or that you sobbed about it in Jess' lap the whole way home? Because I already overheard you telling him about the first part when I went to check on you in the bathroom at the bowling alley." Dean mentioned, keeping a straight face.

Castiel's eyes went wide. "Y-You heard us talking? What else did you hear?" He asked, face flushing a little. "Because if you didn't want him to know, I'm sorry, I won't talk about it anym--" he started to ramble.

Dean reached out, and laid a hand on his knee. "Dude, it's cool. I'm not mad about you gossiping about me to your best friend. Lord knows you deserve to talk about your sexual experiences in a positive manner after everything you've been through. I'm not, nor will I ever be, mad at you for telling your own business to your friend. It's normal, trust me. Besides, what kind of guy gets mad when people talk about how great he is in bed?" Dean cracked a grin.

Castiel relaxed, and glanced down at his plate with a shy smile. "I get it. And yeah, you were pretty great." he murmured.

The atmosphere changed, and Dean felt his face flush a little bit. He withdrew his hand from it's place on Castiel's knee and used it to rub the back of his neck. "Uh, thanks. So were you. I hope things aren't… awkward. Between us, I mean. I know the situation wasn't ideal, but everything turned out alright, right? We both enjoyed it, you didn't die, and I proved that I am, in fact, not a complete douchebag."

Castiel nodded. "Of course. You are only 50% of a douchebag." He said, with a completely straight face.

Dean burst out laughing, followed by Cas. Then he winced and rubbed his temple, but he was still smiling. "It's not awkward, Dean. Thank you, for everything. And for giving me the best heat - well - the best sex of my entire life."

Dean nodded. "Your welcome. And uh, what you've experienced before wasn't really sex. Rape isn't sex. It's an assault of a sexual nature, yes, but sex itself is something good and consensual. If it's not, it's rape. Plain and simple." He explained.

Castiel furrowed his brow, but nodded. "I think I understand."

Dean stood and headed towards the door. "Eat your toast and drink some water, you'll feel better soon. I'm surprised it isn't worse, you were really out of it last night. Even called me 'Meg' when I put you to bed." He said.

Castiel froze, staring at him. Dean froze in response, feeling like the air had suddenly gotten a lot colder. "I-I what?" he breathed.

"When I put you in your bed, you said 'Goodnight Meg', and passed out." he explained slowly. "Did–did you know a Meg?" He asked, unable to resist.

Castiel snapped his jaw shut, eyes distant and hard, and turned away from him, cupping his plate of toast in his hand. "A long time ago. A lifetime, really."

Dean didn't want to risk asking anymore, and left. But his curiosity was officially inflamed.

Who was Meg?

\---

The tension between the two had lessened, but some still remained, lingering in the air like something stale.

Castiel couldn't believe at what he had said to Dean, what he had _called_ him. Part of him wondered why he would have done such a thing, yet another part knew, and he didn't like that one bit. He barely even _knew_ Dean and he had done that. Was he that desperate for love that he'd welcome any that he received that easily?

The thoughts of this subject made him bitter, bringing feelings of guilt, confusion, stupidity, longing. He rid them of his mind with determination and tried to replace them with something nice, perhaps of the sky and a warm breeze flowing through his feathers. Yes, that was a happy thought.

It was as Dean said, that cursed hangover passed only a few minutes after noon. Dean had decided to take the rest of the day off, since he was already home, or so he told Castiel. He suggested that they spend the rest of the day at the beach.

"Have you ever been?" Dean asked Castiel when he brought up the suggestion.

Castiel's eyes lit up at the idea. "No, no I don't believe I ever have." He could only imagine what beaches were like. He had tried to imagine the warm sand between his toes, or the waves lapping against his legs. Castiel never thought he'd get the chance. "Can... _may_ we go, please Dean?" Castiel realized after he said it, he sounded rather selfish and immediately wished it hadn't come out as such, or that it did come out at all.

His worries soon diminished as Dean smiled wider. "'Course we can! We could even see if Balthazar wants to come, if you'd like him to."

"He would like that. W-we would like that." Castiel said, barely containing a smile. All past tension had been forgotten now with the mention of a dream that was soon to become a reality.

 _"He could be lying to you,"_ whispered that constant voice within, that was more of a nuisance than help. _"Don't get your hopes up, he will be your ruin."_

Castiel didn't reply to the voice, not wanting it to continue its attack on what trust he had with Dean. Trust was a delicate thing, and Castiel has placed a dangerous amount in Dean. Maybe the voice was right, maybe it was wrong. Over the course of his life, Castiel knew that making bad decisions was something he did frequently, and even from the consequences that came from those decisions, he'd often continue making the same bad ones anyway. After all, he was, and always will be, just some stupid, worthless omega.

Was it so wrong to want this one happiness, this one dream I come true? Of course it was, but... when did he ever learn?

"You want to call him and ask, or me?" Dean offered.

"I will." answered Castiel, maybe a bit too eagerly. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the cellphone that Dean had gotten him. Castiel looked to Dean as if to get his permission to use the device. Dean stared at him for a moment, confused, until he picked up on Castiel's reasoning for his hesitance and gave him a nod.

Castiel mirrored Dean's nod and dialed Balthazar's number.

 _"Cassie?"_ came Balthazar's voice from the other end of the phone.

"Hello," Castiel said simply.

 _"Cassie!"_ Balthazar's voice emitted loudly from the cellphone at Castiel's ear. _"How are you doing? I heard you had quite the hangover."_

"I am better now."

_"I'm glad to hear that,"_

"Are you busy at the moment?" Castiel asked.

_"Uh, no, no not really. Why do you ask?"_

"Dean has offered to take us to the beach. Would you like to come?" Castiel asked, trying to contain his excitement on the matter.

 _"I didn't know they had beaches around here,"_ Balthazar muttered, _"Won't there be humans there? As much as I'd like to go I..."_ Balthazar trailed off. Castiel had forgotten about that one big factor that would hinder and/or make their time very uncomfortable.

Dean must have seen his face fall. "Everything alright?" he asked, concerned.

Castiel looked to Dean. "There's people there."

"Oh! Yeah, sorry I forgot to mention; an old family friend left us a cabin. It's private, secluded, and has its own beachfront, sand and all. You guys would be fine." Dean reassured.

Relief filled Castiel's face, and returned to talking to Balthazar. "Dean said tha--"

 _"Oh yes, I heard him. If that's the case, I'd love to come!"_ Balthazar chimed. _"If we're to go swimming, you and I will have to get waterproofing wing oil so they don't get waterlogged. Oh, the beach!"_ Castiel smiled at the joy they shared over their upcoming exposition.

"Balthazar says you'll have to buy waterproofing wing oil," Castiel told Dean.

"Sure thing, we'll get some on the way. Balthazar," Dean said a bit louder, "we'll come and get you soon, 'kay?"

_"Alright!"_

"He says 'alright'," echoed Castiel. Dean nodded and began to walk off. "I'll see you later then?" Castiel asked his best friend over the phone.

 _"Definitely. Okay, I'll see you soon!"_ Balthazar bade him gleefully and hung up. Castiel smiled and put the phone back in his pocket.

"Oh," Castiel heard Dean say from the other end of the hall in a worrisome tone.

"What?" Castiel asked, concerned, walking towards Dean.

"You okay with wearing a pair of shorts and an old shirt, or something? We could go get you trunks or something--"

"No, no," Castiel said, "shorts and a shirt will do just fine. Unless..." he started slowly, looking at Dean, "you'd like me to wear... something else?"

"Ah, no," Dean cleared his throat, "No, just, wear whatever you're comfortable in."

Castiel nodded. "Alright."

\---

Obtaining the items they needed for their trip weren't too hard to gather, being from around the apartment. The things they had yet to collect were a few food items to snack on while they were at the beach, waterproof wing oil, and Balthazar. First stop: supermarket.

"It won't be like last time, I promise." Dean finally said after they pulled into the supermarket parking lot. Castiel nodded and Dean added, "Just stay close to me, and you'll be fine. If anything does happen though, fight them, Cas. I've seen you — you," Dean chuckled in admiration, "you're strong, Cas."

"Th-thank you," Castiel flustered, not really knowing what to say to that except, "that—that was the first time someone put it that way."

Dean smiled. "And there's the cellphone too but, I really don't think it'll come to that. You'll be fine." He tried to reassure the angel.

Castiel nodded. He wanted to believe Dean but, he's lived in the South for so long and knew that hoping for the better in a situation was rather useless. He still had his doubts on the outcome of this venture, but he made sure to keep them to himself. Dean seemed happy, and he didn't want to ruin that good spirit with his.

"Ready?" asked Dean, hand set to open the car door.

"Yes." Castiel replied.

The supermarket was not so busy, which Castiel was thankful for. Most of the customers were mothers with small children or the few elderly here and there, although there were some men, and they made Castiel uneasy. He got closer to Dean, almost stepping on his heels. Castiel felt the men's eyes linger on his form, but he did his best to ignore their gazes, yet remaining sure of his surroundings and the distance between the threat.

Dean noticed Castiel's discomfort within seconds, and gave the men an icy glare until they took the message, backing off a little until Dean was comfortable enough with their distance. 

"Anything specific you want to eat at the beach?"

Castiel thought for a moment. "What about burgers?"

Dean smiled as if he knew Castiel was going to say that. "Sure, we can cook them over a fire later."

"Alright." Castiel acknowledged.

Dean led him through the store and placed into the basket that Castiel wanted to hold with items. The basket had been filled with a couple bags of chips, a box of cookies, a bottle of sunscreen, and lastly, the waterproofing wing oil. The last item had been a bit hard to find, but it was found nonetheless.

The wait at the till was made awkward, thanks to the teller: a boy who looked old enough to be in high school, whom was withholding giggles as he glanced from Dean to Castiel—master to slave—, struggling to scan their items as he did so. Castiel sighed heavily, and Dean scratched his brow.

"Everything okay there, kid?" Dean asked with slight annoyance.

The kid looked up at Dean, almost blushing, "Ye-yeah yeah! It's a-all good! I just gotta..." He kept running the item over the scanner again and again, but it didn't work.

A nearby sales associate noticed the small commotion. "Having a problem over there, Carter?" asked the woman.

"U-uuh, the-the thing won't scan it--" Carter rambled. The woman sighed and walked behind the till and took the item from his hand and ran it through the scanner, which worked right away, item and price appearing on the screen.

 _'Carla'_ , the woman's name tag read. Carla looked back to Carter with an unimpressed look, and he looked rather embarrassed about the whole ordeal taking place.

"O-oh it seems to be uh—working!" Carter anxiously laughed.

"You got this now?" Carla asked him.

"Y-yeah, I do." Carter cleared his throat and returned to his job with a face as red as a beet. Castiel actually pitied him. "That'll b-be a total of 59.78." He said in a pathetic excuse of 'firmly'. Dean paid with his credit card, and they left as quickly as they could. "H-have a good day!" Carter waved to them, returning to continue his chuckling.

"Jeez, what did that kid think we were gonna do?" Dean voiced once they left the supermarket.

"He thought you were going to fuck me in the ass." Castiel dead panned. Dean turned to Castiel at his blatancy. "What, it's true." Dean quirked a smile and continued to walk to the car. "What? Was it something I said?" Castiel asked, right on Dean's tail.

\---

"What took you guys so long?" Balthazar asked when he got into the backseat of Dean's car. He was dressed in a worn t-shirt—probably one of Benny's—and a pair of shorts. On his head he wore a cute sun hat and over his eyes, pink flower-shaped sunglasses—obviously a relic of Dorothy's. Dean and Castiel stared at him. "What?"

"You raid Dorothy's closet?" Dean asked.

"What, you mean these?" Balthazar pointed to the general location of his face, "Nah, these are Benny's!"

Dean laughed and began to drive off. "Never knew Benny was so _stylish._ "

"Oh, he's a closet diva, believe me."

Dean laughed again. "Now _that_ I would pay to see."

Balthazar gave him a wide grin. "Feather boa and everything."

"Ah boy,"

"And... _banana hammocks._ " Balthazar whispered in Dean's ear.

"Oh god, god no. Stop there I—that image is _seared_ into my brain now—god!" Dean covered his mouth with his hand. Balthazar laughed in a certain victory. "I never needed to imagine that—ever!"

"You're welcome." Balthazar said sweetly.

Castiel watched the scene in complete delight. Balthazar seemed to be happy; genuinely happy, which even though he always seemed to be so, it was often not the case. Being cheery and a big goof was ofttimes his way of coping, but now, this was all pure joy, a joy that fueled Castiel the way a best friend's happiness does to oneself.

"Hey, Cassie," Castiel turned to Balthazar's call. Before he knew it, the sunglasses were placed onto his face. "You look cute!" Balthazar complimented.

Castiel blinked and turned to Dean. "It's true," Dean agreed with a smile. Castiel couldn't help but mirror the smile, and turned to return the sunglasses to his best friend.

The rest of the drive was accompanied by merry and cheerful spirits.

Castiel marveled at the scenery that passed by where city sights met country skies and prairie lines. Tree tops and soaring birds. _Free_ was the word that passed through Castiel's mind. He knew he wasn't, he didn't need the collar around his neck to remind him that, but in that moment, he was free.

"You alright, Cas?" Dean asked, worried look on his face. Castiel didn't understand why until he noticed that there was a single tear trailing down his cheek.

Castiel quickly wiped it away. "I'm fine I—I'm better than fine." He turned back to look out the window, laughing, then sighed as happily as one could sigh.

For the few more minutes that their journey held, they were spent in a comfortable silence. Castiel's excitement began to reach its brim when he first caught sight of the lake; his wings showed as much. He hoped it wasn't too deep, since he had no idea how to swim. Balthazar had said it was as easy as riding a bike, but Castiel hadn't the slightest idea how to do that either. He supposed he'd get the chance to right away.

Gravel was heard under the tires, Dean beginning to slow as he turned into a driveway, to the cabin, Castiel assumed. Sure enough, a quaint cabin came into view. It looked a bit run down, as if Dean hadn't been to it in quite some time. They parked in front of it, and both angels jumped out of the car with excited haste.

"Wait up, guys!" Dean called out to the angels, which were more like a flurry of joyous feathers at this point.

A gasp escaped Castiel's lips when the lake was in view. The sun shone upon the wide blue's rippling surface, putting the shine of the purest gems to complete shame. Sounds of long grass blowing in the breeze and the waves dancing with shifting sand filled Castiel's ears, everything's beauty captivating his entire being.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Dean said from behind him, breaking him from his nature-induced trance.

"Very," Castiel replied with a tranquil grin.

"Help me put this on, Cassie." Balthazar said. He had already begun digging into the bags, retrieving the wing oil. Castiel knelt behind him and took the bottle from his hands.

"How much do I use?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know, lots? I have a lot of feathers. Just do your best, it'll be fine." Balthazar shook his wings impatiently then extended them, awaiting the application. Castiel popped the cap open and squirted a fair amount onto his hand with a squishy noise escaping from the bottle. He rubbed the oil in his hands before gently beginning to work at Balthazar's colorful feathers. Balthazar unashamedly made his enjoyment of this known, moaning in pleasure.

Castiel caught Dean's slight uncomfortableness by the sounds coming out of Balthazar's mouth and smiled. "You're making Dean uncomfortable, stop being so pornographic." Castiel whispered to him.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Dean?" Balthazar inquired.

"No? No," Dean tried to convince him, which caused Balthazar to only moan louder.

"Stop it!" Castiel scolded playfully as he tugged a bit on the feathers he had been working on.

"Ow! Okay okay okay, I'll behave." Balthazar tried not to make much noise after that.

It took some time, but soon Balthazar's wings were water ready. "Your turn!" Balthazar chimed as he rose to prepare Castiel's wings.

"U-um, wait," Castiel stuttered shyly, "Dean do you... do you want to... put it in my wings for me?" Balthazar's eyebrows rose and looked to Dean for his reply.

"O-oh uh... you me want to—sure, yeah, I can do that." Dean hesitantly walked over to Castiel, grabbing the bottle from Balthazar's extended hand. He knelt down behind Castiel, squeezing a large amount of oil onto his hand. "This stuff comes out quicker than I expected." He said with detected nervousness. Castiel hissed at Balthazar when he began to snicker.

Castiel didn't know if Dean truly understood what it meant to be given to do such a thing, something considered very intimate. Most of the meaning had been taken away by the ways of the South, but that didn't mean Castiel didn't acknowledge that it was still a sacred thing. To be given permission to touch an angel's wings, and in such an intimate way yet.

But maybe to him, to Castiel, this was more of a way to show his trust and gratitude. No matter what the true meaning behind it was, what he did know was how right it felt, and that was a sense that he rarely felt.

Castiel spread his wings and awaited for Dean's touch.

 

Dean rubbed the oil through his own fingers, and then gently started coating Castiel's feathers with it, hoping Cas wouldn't make the noises Balthazar had. Not that he wouldn't love to hear Castiel moan, but it would be embarrassing in this setting. Balthazar was already looking at them like it was Christmas morning.

God, he loved touching the angel's wings, for multiple reasons. And he was honored that he was being allowed to. Jess had explained to him in depth about angel culture, and he knew that this was like, really sacred shit. He felt a swell of pride at how much Castiel trusted him. Things were definitely looking up.

Castiel didn't moan like Balthazar did, he seemed to be holding it in, but Dean watched a flush come over his skin. Castiel had smaller wings than Balthazar, so it didn't take as long has it had with him.

He wiped his hands off on his pants when he was done. "You're all good, Cas." Dean announced.

Castiel jumped up and smiled at him. "Thank you, Dean. Can I go in the water now?" He asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Oh!” Dean turned and went rummaging through the bag, pulling out another bottle of something. “Sunscreen!” 

Dean put some on Cas, while he put on Balthazar. 

“Can I go now?” Castiel asked, excited as a puppy. 

“Dude, go for it." Dean replied, grinning. Castiel practically sprinted to the water's edge, and then dipped his toe in experimentally before wading in a little bit.

"Come on, Bal!" He called up the beach.

"Be there in a minute!" The other angel replied, then turned to Dean. "Thank you." He said, in a serious voice.

Dean blinked. "Uh, you’re welcome?" He replied, slightly confused.

"For what you did for Cassie, during his heat. And for everything else you've done, for the both of us, especially this. Thank you." Balthazar explained, turning to look out at Castiel with a distant expression.

"I've never seen him as happy as he is with you," Balthazar continued, "and I've only heard of him being that happy once before. And there's something you should know. Castiel is... complicated, as I'm sure you've picked up. And I'm sure there are parts of him that are screaming not to trust you, and he's fighting them every second. There are probably parts of him that are still convinced you're just playing along until you decide to turn around and bend him over the kitchen table.

"Castiel is fighting all the survival instincts he's learned because he cares about you, and he desperately wants you to be real. He desperately wants to trust you. And if you do anything to break that trust, it will break him. After a whole life of living like he has, the horrors he's been through that you don't even know about yet, he still isn't broken. Banged up a little and twisted in the head a bit, but not broken. But you could break him. After all, to love something is to destroy it, right?" Balthazar mused.

Dean blushed. "I don't—"

"Yes, you do." Balthazar shot him a look, and he shut his mouth. They were silent for a moment.

"Does he..." Dean whispered.

Balthazar cocked his head in thought. "I don't know. I think it's starting, but it's not the same thing to love to him as it is to you. He loved someone, a long time ago. Loved them with all his heart. And it ended... let's just say it didn't end well. Along with all his other issues... but it's starting. He cares about you, a lot. He wouldn't put himself out there and trust you if he didn't." Balthazar explained.

Dean nodded, mind whirling. "You know who Meg is, don't you?" He asked.

The effect was immediate. Balthazar whirled to stare at him, eyes wide and blood draining from his face. " _He told you?_ " He whispered in shock.

Dean shook his head. "No, but last night, I tucked him in bed, and he called me Meg. Then I mentioned it, he closed up. Who is she, or he, or whatever?" Dean explained.

Balthazar bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I can't. You have to ask him about it yourself. Just know that... she broke his heart. To love is to destroy, right?" Balthazar huffed sadly, then plastered on a smile and went to join Castiel in the water.

Dean watched the two angels swimming, pondering all this information. So, Meg seemed to be the person that Cas loved a long time ago. And she broke his heart. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic for the angel. Maybe he shouldn't bring it up. But his curiosity won out, and he resolved to ask about it once they got home, when they were alone.

"Dean, did you really come just to watch us swim? Come on!" Castiel called gleefully, waving him over.

Dean shook all those thoughts out of his head and pulled his shirt off, to which Balthazar whistled, and Cas rolled his eyes.

The angels splashed each other with water with their hands and wings and laughed with joy. Dean didn’t think he’d ever hear the angel laugh. It was a beautiful sound. 

Balthazar dove under the water and swam underneath around Castiel until he could hold his breath no longer.

"How do you do that?" Castiel asked, eyes following Balthazar with wonder.

"Here, I'll show you," Balthazar swam beside Castiel. "Take a deep breath, go under, and kick."

"It's that easy?"

"Probably not. Oh, and use your wings." Balthazar went under again and swam, blowing bubbles out of his nose as he did.

Castiel looked to Dean with an unsure grin.

"Go, give it a try! We'll be right here." Dean said.

Castiel looked down into the water for a moment before taking a deep breath and going under. He kept his eyes open and looked around. Balthazar was in front of him, smiling and looking rather silly with bubbles coming out of his nose. Castiel laughed, and accidentally swallowed some water. He panicked a little and returned above water, coughing.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked, wading in the water towards him.

Castiel nodded through his coughing fit then looked to Balthazar, "Why did you do that?"

"What, me? I didn't do anything? It was you who was foolish enough to start laughing underwater!" Balthazar replied, arms crossed. Dean visibly lighten up that that was all that happened.

"You will pay for that," Castiel playfully threatened and began to messily swim towards a retreating Balthazar.

"Cas, you're doing it!" Dean applauded. He was right, he was swimming!

"Why are you so good at everything?" Balthazar made the mistake to stop and ask. Castiel took this moment to tackle him.

They played in the water some more, chancing and splashing and racing long throughout the afternoon. Dean was the first one to leave the water, soon followed by two wet angels.

“Hey Dean,” Castiel said from behind him.

“Yeah?” Dean turned to find two sets of wings facing him, and before he could comprehend what was happening, they shook their wings, water spraying in Dean’s face. “Hey!” he chided playfully, hurrying to shield his face with his hands. Balthazar laughed and Castiel chuckled lightly. 

“I think you need a towel.” Balthazar quipped.

“Ya think?” Dean rubbed away the water droplets that clung to his lashes and reached over for the towels. “Here,” he passed one to Balthazar and Cas before wrapping himself in his own. 

After Dean dried off, he set up the small grill and began to prepare the hamburgers. As he did so, he found himself paying more attention to the angels making sandcastles in the sand than the burgers on the grill. The expression on Castiel’s face warmed his heart. Never had he seen the angel look as content as he was now. Dean was glad he was able to grant Cas this bit of happiness; Lord knows he deserves it. He deserves so much more. 

The sun had just begun to set behind the treeline as the last burger made its way off the grill. “Come and eat,” Dean called to them as he dug out the condiments and placed them on a picnic table. 

“Smells good,” Balthazar muttered as he went to grab for the nearest bun. 

“Just wait until you taste it.” Dean smiled. 

The three sat down on a blanket laid down upon the grass, just before the sand and stones mixed with dirt. They ate in peace, absorbing the sounds of the nature surrounding them and taking part in the small amounts of conversation that took place. There they remained, watching the sunset well past the trees, painting the sky a beautiful palette of purples, pinks, and blue. 

It was until then that they packed up their things and began to head back home.

They loaded into the car, bundled in towels, and headed back on the road. Dean was just explaining all the different genres of music to Castiel when his phone rang. He knew he shouldn't talk on the phone and drive, but it was his mother calling.

"Hi, Mom. What's up?" He answered, and the two angels quieted down in respect.

Mary's voice wafted over the speaker. "Oh, I've had an awful day. Guess what? The house is full of termites! It has to be fumigated! Sam and Jess are going to let us stay in the guest bedroom while all that happens, and I thought it would be a wonderful reason to have a family dinner! And make sure to bring Castiel, he's a sweetheart. I'll keep your father in line, don't worry. And I was thinking, since you always loved to cook with me back when you were young, that you could help me! What do you think? We'll make pie and everything!" She chittered in excitement.

Dean's heart swelled. He loved cooking with his mother. "That sounds great, Mom! When are you guys staying?" He asked.

"Tomorrow night, actually. Might as well get it over with, right? I've got to go, I love you sweetie! Tell Castiel I said hi!" And with that, she hung up.

"My mom says hi." Dean told the angel.

Castiel cocked his head. "What's going on?"

"Their house is getting fumed for termites, so they're staying in the guest bedroom at Sam and Jess' place tomorrow night. We're gonna have a big family dinner." He explained.

Castiel stiffened, but tried to hide it. Balthazar's eyes flicked between Dean and Cas like he was watching tennis.

Dean sighed. "Look, Cas, I know my dad is an asshole, but my mom really likes you. Besides, he knows his place now, and everyone will be there. Everything will be fine. And if he even says a word, trust me, Jess is a terrifying woman when she gets riled. And nothing riles her like a racist." He laughed, recalling the many occasions he'd watched Jess bitch out ignorant racist pro-slavers.

Castiel smiled, but it seemed a little forced. He turned to the music up to fill the silence.

Everything was going to be fine.

\---

Everything was _not_ going to be fine.

Castiel did his very best to keep cool, however that may have been. He wore a blank, neutral expression, which Balthazar had commented once that he looked constipated. But what could he do, that was just how his face was.

Balthazar discretely brushes Castiel's wing with his own in a comforting manner, and continued doing so the rest of the drive. Their hands intertwined, and they sat quietly, looking out at the darkness beyond the car windows and letting their minds fill with the melody emitting from the stereo.

"Goodbye!" Balthazar waved them off when they had reached Benny's house.

"See you tomorrow," Castiel waved back as they pulled away from the house. _Tomorrow..._

Dean turned down the stereo. "Did you have fun today, Cas?" He asked, looking at Castiel through the rear view mirror.

Castiel looked to Dean's reflection. "Yes," he smiled, "I did. Thank you, Dean—really, thank you."

"You're welcome. Any time!" Dean grinned.

"I've always wanted to go to the beach and, I never thought I'd ever be able to. It was something that I sadly came to terms with but," Castiel paused a moment, "you made it possible. Thank you." A small smile appeared on his face, and his eyes glowing from the passing city lights.

"Oh it's, it's no problem, really. I—" Dean turned and looked at Castiel, "you're welcome."

They unloaded the things from the car when they reached the building and made their way to Dean's apartment. Castiel's excitement from earlier that day had dwindled, being replaced with exhaustion and tiredness, mixed in with a bit of anxiety. Okay, maybe a lot of anxiety.

The best way Castiel could think to attempt to wind down atleast a little would be to take a hot shower, and he could wash off the sand clinging to his skin while he was at it. "I'm going to take a shower." Castiel announced.

"Hey Cas, wait." Castiel turned to Dean. "I wanna talk to you. Here let's—let's sit down." Nervously, Castiel sat beside Dean on the couch, worried about whatever was about to come out of Dean's mouth. Dean was hesitant, until he finally said what had been bothering him all day: "Who is Meg?"

Castiel tensed. He knew that she would be brought up again; he was just hoping it wouldn't have to be this soon.

"You don't really have to tell me if you don't want to but--"

"No," Castiel interrupted, shaking his head, "I-I'll tell you." He clasped his hands together and licked at his bottom lip. "Meg, she - she was a shooting star. She was made of fire, and ice, and jagged edges of stardust. She was dangerous and beautiful, and kept promising me that all my wishes would come true. She was a shooting star, and she burnt up in my atmosphere." Tears began to well up in Castiel's eyes. He looked into Dean's eyes and confessed, "Sh-she was killed, because of me."

Dean looked at him with a certain tenderness and put a hand over his. "It probably wasn't your fault,"

Castiel shook his head, "They shot her. A-and not only once. Three times. _Th-three._ "

"Who?" Dean asked with concern.

"The police." Castiel smiled ironically. "I thought they were supposed to 'serve and protect' the human race but, they did the complete opposite. They were even _smiling_." Castiel gritted through his teeth. "And it's all my fault..." He sniffled and quickly wiped a tear from his cheek.

He felt so _guilty_. Meg had been so young, so full of dreams and ambitions. She had so much care, a gentleness amongst all those thorns. She was aware of the truth that happened to his kind, and she had just wanted to help. She had made him feel like he was worth it, worth fighting for and putting everything on the line for. But, where had that gotten him? He was placed back where he started. Her sacrifice had been for nothing. He was nothing.

Dean slowly pulled Castiel into a side hug. Castiel buried his head into Dean's neck and slightly wrapped his right wing around Dean's back.

"I loved her," Castiel muttered under his breath, "and I killed her."

"Shh," Dean stroked a hand through Castiel's wind-blown hair, "it wasn't your fault."

"But it was!" Castiel countered.

"Were you the one who shot the gun?" Dean asked gently. Castiel didn't reply. "It wasn't your fault, Cas, it really wasn't. It may seem that way to you but, it _wasn't_. And Meg she—she would tell you the same thing." Castiel didn't know if he agreed with Dean, but he nodded anyway. "How about we get some rest? We've done a lot today, and we gotta be rested for dinner with my parents tomorrow night."

Castiel inwardly flinched. He had forgotten when all these old feelings had been brought back to the surface. That anxiety returned, eating away at him; a constant gnawing, like something trying to get its way out.

"Hey, I'll be there, as will Sam and Jess. You'll be fine." Dean comforted. He must have sensed Castiel's inner distress.

"I know." Castiel reassured him with a fake smile. "I think I'm going to go get ready for bed then. May I take a quick shower?"

"Yeah, course you can." Dean gave him a gentle pat on the back and let Castiel get up from the couch.

Castiel stepped into his room and quickly grabbed his pajamas without turning the bedroom light on and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him a bit too harshly.

With a sigh, he took off his clothes and started the shower. When Castiel glimpsed at himself in the mirror, he quickly noted that his skin had become more tan. He smiled at that. It made him happy that he had a bit color, looking more healthy. Sure, there were still the scars that marred his body, but that aside, Castiel wasn't looking too bad, all things considered. 

His self-positivity didn't last long though when he remembered who would be visiting tomorrow night. Why it bothers him so much, he doesn't know. It was just sex. _No, it's rape,_ the thought passed through his mind. _If you don't want it, then it's rape._ Balthazar had told him as much when he had first arrived, but after a while, he stopped. It was easier to give in and accept than to keep fighting it. But now Dean reminded him. It was something that Castiel once knew, he believed it to be the truth in this mess of a world before all the other supposed truths about the whole matter. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He just wanted to shower off and go to sleep.

The shower was only as long as it took Castiel to wash the sand from his body and hair. He didn't give any attention to his wings—the oil hadn't fully worn out yet, and by morning to would have lost its potency.

He patted and dried himself off with the fluffy towels he loved so much, and quickly got dress. Castiel was very exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get some sleep.

"Night, Cas," Dean said when Castiel left the bathroom and was about to enter his room.

"Night, Dean." Castiel blinked wearily before closing the door, throwing his clothes in the laundry hamper, and quickly snuggled beneath his covers. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself for sleep and closed his eyes.

That sleep hit Castiel with a subtle jolt, placing him a state of fear, perfect for incubating memories turned nightmares to terrorize him through the night. Soon, one from his vast collection of dreadful experiences had been selected and began to play through Castiel's subconscious.

...

This dream took him to one of the first few months he was at Zachariah's brothel, and what an awful few months they were.

Meg's cruel death was still fresh in his mind, only empowering his unpredictable and unstable behavior all the more. Lately, he had been obedient, letting the clients do as the pleased with his body. But today something had risen in him and he just, he just couldn't. It was one of those times where he would just _snap._

Castiel was sitting on the large bed in the room that he usually used when he had clients, waiting for one to enter. He wasn't sure when that would be, but Zachariah had ordered him to wash up from his last session with a client — which he had done some time ago — and wait for the next one to arrive. So, he sat there on the edge of the bed, naked, and waited for a Master (how each slave was supposed to address the client) to use him like a good little omega should. He sighed impatiently and shifted uncomfortably.

Finally and inevitably, a man entered Castiel's room and locked the door shut. Because of Castiel's anxiety of meeting John Winchester a second time, that was who this man's face wore in his dream.

John walked across the room towards Castiel, eyeing him up and down as he approached. Castiel defied and dared to look — or more like glare — into John's lustful gaze. The initial moment when their eyes met brought a chill down Castiel's spine, but his glare only continued to try to threaten John, to which the man was surprised by this very odd behavior he portrayed. It was considered disobedient, for one thing, but overall it was told to be in omegas that were 'genetically sick', or so they called it. Maybe they were right.

John stood right in front of Castiel and went to run a hand down Castiel's cheek, but the small angel flinched away and continued to glare. "Quite a look you have there, whore." John slapped Castiel across the cheek, making him gasp at the sudden contact. John grabbed Castiel by his hair and turned his face towards his and looked into Castiel's blue eyes with intense anger. "Is that any way to look at your master?" John spat.

Castiel snarled at him in response, fire alive in his eyes. He wanted _none_ of this.

John slammed Castiel down on the bed with rage and began to take off his shirt with haste, not seeming to care much if the buttons broke off in his urgency to strip down in order to what Castiel only expected now, to be brutally fucked into the already filthied sheets. Castiel already began to wish could take back his misbehavior; he was still rather sore from the man previous to John.

"I'm s-sorry I--" Castiel stuttered sheepishly, but was cut off when John grabbed him by the hair again and slammed his head into the bed.

"I didn’t pay for you to make me put up with this shit, you fucking cunt! I'll teach you, and you will _learn_ , that I'm sure of." John shoved Castiel onto his stomach and spread his cheeks apart, lining his already throbbing cock up to Castiel's small pink hole. Castiel tried to scramble away, but John held him down with a firm grip at the hips and began to thrust ruthlessly. He was met with a little resistant, but he still managed to force himself inside the small angel. Castiel gasped in pain at the rough entry, whimpering at the tug that each thrust brought due to the lack of self-lubrication and further preparation.

John moaned in pleasure, hand moving from Castiel's hip to the base of his wing bone. Castiel let out a cry as John tugged roughly on it, using it as leverage as he continued to pound into the poor angel. "Mmmh, you're so _tight_ ," John moaned into his ear. It wasn't like he hadn't heard that one before.

Castiel groaned and bit his lip, feeling himself tear from the inside out. It was a pain he was well familiar with, but not one that he ever missed. It hurt more than just his physical body, his soul and mind felt the pain also, perhaps even worse so.

John's grip on Castiel's wing became too painful. Castiel began to sob, and vainly attempted to get John off of him by flapping his free wing and struggling to get away from underneath him. But John would have none of that, no. He punched down on Castiel's wing, causing Castiel to yelp.

"Let's see how loud you can scream, slut," John said with a dark smile.

Cas looked at him over his shoulder with wide, teary eyes. "P-p-please n-no," John ran his hand through Castiel's delicate feathers and ripped out a handful. Castiel _screamed_.

...

Castiel shot up from his bed and scrambled off of it, panting, trying to recover from what he just dreamed. He could still feel that phantom pain of pulled feathers in his right wing.

Had he screamed in his sleep like he had in his dream? Oh god, how he hoped he didn't, and that Dean didn't wake because of it.

Castiel tried to calm himself down. _Breathe in, breathe out._ He didn't think he could sleep after that. And if he did, he knew he'd only return to that nightmare. What he took from all of this was, he really wasn't looking forward to seeing John again. He just wanted to lock himself away, but he knew he was never truly safe. A small part wondered that maybe... maybe he wasn't supposed to be safe, to be protected from all which Dean was trying so hard to. He really didn't know right now, and the confusion hurt his head as he tried to figure out.

He just wanted to be held and treated like he was someone. _Perhaps I could sleep with Dean tonight,_ Castiel thought. _But... maybe he wouldn't want me to._ He didn't know how he would handle that rejection right now in such a vulnerable state. Dean has brought Castiel a certain peace and comfort, one he was craving this very minute. He thought it over for a moment, soon coming to the uncertain conclusion that Dean would most likely allow him to snuggle up beside him, as he has already done a few times before. 

As silently as he could, he tip-toed his way from his room to Dean's. He knocked quietly and opened the door. "D-Dean?" he quivered.

 

Dean had been lying awake for quite sometime, mulling over the information he had received today. So, Cas had been in love with some girl named Meg, and the girl had died right in front of him. He didn't have all the information, but he doubted that it was really the angel's fault.

That didn't stop Cas from blaming himself, though. He wasn't surprised when he heard a scream, and he wasn't surprised when he heard the knock on his door. His heart swelled with affection.

 

"Come here," Dean said tenderly and moved the covers so Castiel could join him in bed. He observed that Dean must have already been awake. God, it was because of him, wasn't it?

Castiel snuggled in close to Dean, taking in that smell that he now joined with the sense of safety. With Dean, Castiel was safe. Dean wouldn't let anyone hurt him. Right?


	10. Falling Towards The Sky

Dean awoke slowly, blinking at the sunlight filling the room. He turned towards the warm body next to him. Castiel looked so peaceful when he slept, at least, when he slept with Dean. Dean hadn’t heard Cas scream during a nightmare like he had last night. He had half a mind to ask about it. He’d wait till Cas woke up - no need to disturb this moment. He loved laying in bed with Cas next to him. Loved it a little too much, probably. But that was an issue for another time.

He hoped his parents would behave during their time over. He knew his mother would, she wasn’t like that. But John… well, if anything did go down, he’d been itching for a good reason to punch his dad in the jaw. Not as much as Sam, probably. His father astounded him. How he could love the man, but hate him. The universe was weird like that, he supposed. 

Cas shifted, eyes fluttering open sleepily. He squinted at the light grumpily, as if offended by the existence of morning, and pulled the blankets over his face with a huff and an indignant flutter of his wings. 

Dean laughed at his antics and sat up.“Early bird gets the worm, Cas.” He prompted, poking at the mound of blankets.

“Was that a fucking pun?” A muffled voice replied, which caused Dean to laugh harder. He was glad the angel wasn’t a morning person. Imperfections made the world go ‘round. 

“How about scrambled eggs for breakfast? Birdies in a nest?” He offered, with a shit eating grin.

Castiel poked his narrowed eyes out. “Why on earth would you cook birds in a nest? How would you eat a nest?” He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

Dean crawled over him to get out of bed, pulling on jeans and a flannel. “Not actual birdies and nests. It’s a breakfast dish. Ellen taught me how to make them.” He explained.

Castiel sat up, stretching his wings and yawning. “Who’s Ellen?” He asked. 

Dean’s movements slowed, and he felt an ache in his heart. “My aunt. Well, not by blood. But family don’t end in blood, like my Uncle Bobby always said. They moved to the North when I was fifteen, them and their two daughters who I practically helped raise. We send letters and stuff, but I haven’t seen them since. But that’s where we’re headed, when we cross. The Roadhouse, finest establishment across the Wall, I’m sure. You’ll like them.” He added, his voice soft and nostalgic. 

“What are they like?” Castiel asked curiously. Dean considered this, biting his lip. Cas must have took the actions negatively, because his eyes widened. “I mean, I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He added hastily.

“No, I want to, I was just thinking. Come on, let’s go eat.” Dean led him to the kitchen. 

“Both Ellen and Bobby have got hearts of gold, but they’ve got rough edges and don’t take no shit. Jo, Ellen’s birth daughter, is a firecracker and the last time I saw her she had a black eye from beating up some kind of a slave owner. And Charlie, their adopted daughter, is a huge nerd, but she’s smart as hell. She’s got an executive job with a huge firm computer coding the entire system up there. She’s only twenty five. Jo’s training to be a cop, I hear. Scares the hell out of Ellen, but there’s nothing she can do about it. And I’m sure she’s secretly proud as hell. I know I am. I mean, I’m just some lame mechanic high-school dropout whose proudest accomplishment is saving a grumpy angel from some asshole with a syringe. Although, that was a pretty awesome thing. Best decision I ever made, probably. Next to that is that one time I was drunk and covered a hot pocket in Nutella.” Dean added as they made their way to the kitchen.

“So… you’re saying I’m the best thing you ever did.” Castiel said slowly.

“Well, that was pretty great too.” 

Cas scoffed at his accidental innuendo and tried to hide his faint blush. 

Dean grinned. “So, birdies in a nest?”

“As long as there are no birds harmed in the process.” Castiel said, sitting at the table. Dean got to work, buttering three pieces of bread on both sides and then cutting holes in the middle before setting them in a hot skillet. Then he cracked the eggs into the holes, and let it fry inside the bread. 

“Oh! I see! They’re called birdies in the nest because the eggs are unfertilized bird fetuses, and the bread surrounds them like a nest would if they had gotten a chance at life!” Castiel exclaimed, happy he understood.

Dean set their plates down. “Uh, I guess that’s a way to explain it. Eat up.” He shrugged, using his fork to cut and pick up a portion. Castiel tried it, his feathers rustling slightly in pleasure as he ate. They talked more about Dean’s estranged family, and Cas told Dean a little of what he remembered of his family.

“Lucifer was insane, and sadistic. Still is, if the last time I saw him is anything to go by.” Castiel said bitterly. Then he forced a smile. “But Michael, Anna, and Gabriel were wonderful. My baby brother, Samandriel, was just a newborn when I… when I was sold. I don’t remember much from that time, but I do remember playing with my siblings. And then it was all just...darkness.” Castiel stared down at his hands, eyes lost. 

Dean just waited, not wanting to push anything. The relationship between the two of them was anything but stable, and this opening up was important, and the last thing Dean wanted to do was fuck it up. He felt sadness for Cas’ suffering, of course, but he was happy that Cas was telling him more. It wasn’t much, but it was another step towards putting all the pieces together.

“I wonder where my siblings are.” Castiel mused, staring down at his plate. “Michael said that the rest are still down here, besides Gabriel. They might be dead.”

“You don’t know that. I’ll talk to Michael about how he found the ones he did, maybe I can help him find more.” Dean suggested.

“Yeah, and then what? If you got caught trying to sneak them across, they’d either kill you or arrest you. Don’t go chasing ghosts, Dean.” Castiel snapped bitterly.

Dean’s eyes widened, and he felt like he’d stepped on the tail of a dragon. 

Castiel stared down at his plate, a scowl on his face, but his hands were shaking and he was a little pale. “It’s okay, Cas.” Dean put out there.

“I--” Castiel started, but was cut off by the door between the apartments opening.

“Are you ready for work?” Jess called, already in her scrubs. Dean flashed her a smile.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” 

\---

The traffic and dropping Jess off made them late, so Benny and everyone were already there by the time they arrived. The angels were in the yard, wrestling and flying as high as their clipped wings would carry them to get away from the ones chasing them. Castiel’s eyes widened when he saw them, like he was looking at a diamond among stones. 

“I didn’t know…”

“They’re as happy as we can make them, in their condition. I try. It’ll be better, when we get up North. Why don’t you go find Balthazar, I’ll see you at lunch.” He said, waving as he turned to go change his clothes.

Benny was already in his jumpsuit, holding a cup of coffee. He took a long chug and looked out the garage door towards the open yard.

“I guess I better round up the cavalry, eh?” Dean sighed. 

Benny laughed. “If you won’t, Dorothy will.”

“I better spare them the trauma.” Dean replied, setting down his coffee and heading out into the yard. “Enough playtime, kiddos, time to get to work.” He called with a laugh at their antics.

 

Michael raised an eyebrow, and landed in front of him. “‘Kiddos’? I’m much older than you.” He replied indignantly. 

“Yeah, well, you don’t act like it.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Inias inquired as he approached. 

Dean shook his head, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s the opposite, my man.” 

\---

Castiel walked into what he was now finding himself to consider ‘his office’, and found Balthazar all sprawled out on the floor, piles of sorted papers around him.

“Having fun?” Castiel asked with a quirked brow.

Balthazar let out an anguished sigh in response and ran a hand through his hair. Castiel smiled and nudged him with his foot.

“How can you   
this stuff?” Balthazar’s eyes traveled from pile to pile. “It’s all a pain in the ass, just, maybe different from what I’m used to.”

“Just ‘maybe’?” Castiel smirked.

“Well, you could always shove the paper up your ass. Then it would be quite similar.” Balthazar remarked.

Castiel looked appalled. “I… I _don’t_ think that’s its intended use…”

“Well, I’ve had weirder--”

“ _Please_ just, never do that.” Castiel grimaced. “Ever.”

“Alright. Castiel, from here on I swear to you, I will never shove paper up my ass.” Balthazar grinned cheekily. 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Castiel said, shaking his head. From there, they went back to work, sorting and figuring everything written down on the pages. 

Castiel flows right into it, with it occupying his mind and bringing him into a state of focus and calculation. It was a place of comfort, and he didn’t fully understand how Balthazar didn’t find it as such. But then again, they are two completely different angels. Balthazar would be much better suited somewhere with more excitement than sitting at a desk, though even he knew that his friend preferred this greatly over what they had been subjected to before. Sure, Balthazar may joke about it at times, acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was, hugely so. 

Castiel turned his thoughts away from that direction and went back to working, that is, until Balthazar interrupted his efforts.

“Not like we really do anything but, you got any plans for today?” Castiel thought for a moment, then froze. Balthazar looked at him with concern. “Cassie?”

“No it’s - no, not really.” He shook his head and turned back to his work.

“C’mon, there’s something you’re not telling me.”

That was true.

“Well, Dean’s parents are going to be joining us for dinner, at the apartment.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s right…” Balthazar rubbed his eyebrow. _Aaaand_ I’m guessing you haven’t told Dean yet about what happened, huh?”

Castiel bit his lip and looked away, which told Balthazar enough. His eyes snapped to Balthazar with a hint of fear. “I-it’s not like anything can happen, right? They’ll be there, and I will be with Dean. I’ll be okay… right?” He searched his friend’s face for confirmation.

Balthazar licked his lips and sighed. “You will definitely be okay if you _just told Dean!_  
He cares for you, Cassie.”

“No, I-I can’t do that!” Castiel looked to the door, hoping no one was going to come in because of their raised voices. He spoke again, but with a quieter voice, “I can’t. And, I _won’t._ So, just leave it.” Castiel ruffled his wings and set back to working. 

“Fine.” Balthazar cast his gaze back down to the papers with him on the floor. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Castiel knew, he _knew_  
that he should tell Dean but, he couldn’t. Not when the safety of his friends and what little family he still had were threatened. His silence would protect those he cared for, and if that meant having more harm done to him, he would take it. He didn’t like the thought one bit, but that was how it was, how it will always be. 

With his mind now distracted, Castiel found it difficult to concentrate on what he had been doing. Things begun to no longer add up, and he was forgetting things that shouldn’t be forgotten. He had to take a break before he messed up. Maybe he already did. Taking a deep breath, he sagged back into his hair and expanded his light gold wings at a comfortable length. 

Balthazar began making weird noises with his mouth and waved a paper in his hand, flapping his rather large wings as he did so. And as he did, a small breeze was caused, and the papers that Castiel had worked so hard to sort in their proper fashion took flight in every direction, landing scattered all over the office floor. Balthazar’s eyes widened. “Oops…” he muttered.

“ _Balthazar!_ ” Castiel whined with a pout of disbelief. “I worked hard on those!”

“I’m sorry. Hey, I’ll get them back in place, alright?” Balthazar got up from the floor and folded his wings back in shame. Castiel knew he didn’t mean to, but still, all that work he had put into it… “It’s all just so - _boring_.” Balthazar stated as he tried to figure what page went into what pile, and looked rather stressed as he did so. 

And at the moment, Dorothy decided to step into the office. “Castiel, can we have a mome--” She paused as she took in the state of the room. “Was there a tornado in here?”

“No, just restless wings.” Castiel shot a look at Balthazar, who shrugged sheepishly. 

Dorothy gave him a disapproving head shake as if that were her way of scolding him, but soon shook it off. “Maybe you could go outside with the alphas when they go on break later. I’m sure you can fly as high as they can, with wings the size of yours.”

“True,” Balthazar nodded, and took a moment to consider the suggestion. 

“I’m sure they’ll be more than okay to let you join in with their - whatever they do. You don’t like being cooped up in the office, do you?”

“Not really, no.” Balthazar answered with honesty. “But, I suppose it’s something to do. And look,” he motioned to the mess on the ground, “I got myself more to do now.” He sighed.

“That was your own fault.” Castiel stated, arms crossed.

“I know, I know,” Balthazar huffed and returned to cleaning the mess he created.

Dorothy looked to Castiel. “May I have a moment with you, please?” she asked softly. Castiel nodded, and went to follow her out the door. He looked to Balthazar once more, wondering if he knew what she wanted him for. Balthazar shrugged as if to say ‘I have no idea’. Nervously, he followed Dorothy to the front office and waited to hear what she had to say.

“I’ve stumbled upon some errors in the paper work, and--”

“I’m sorry! I-I’m so sorry I--”

“No no, Cas, it’s okay just, hear me out.” Dorothy tried to calm to panicked angel. 

“But I-I failed you and probably cost you money and I deserve to be--”

Dorothy cut him off before he said something that worsen the ache in her heart that she had for these angels. “It wasn’t - it wasn’t to that extent, Castiel. Here, how about we sit down.”

Castiel was close to breaking out in tears. This, messing up like this, it was never something he ever wanted to do; not to these great people. How could he have let this happen? 

It was because he was just so _stupid_  
No amount of effort and determination could change that. He was just stupid, useless, good for one thing--

“Castiel, come back to me.” Dorothy’s voice broke through his destructive thoughts. Castiel’s lip began to quiver. “It was only a mistake, Cas. Mistakes happen, and we learn from them.” Castiel shut him eyes and shook his head furiously. No no mistakes, mistakes lead to punishment and punishment leads to pain - why does he _never learn?_ “Castiel, look at me!” Dorothy grabbed Castiel’s face and held it firmly, looking into his fear-filled eyes. “You need to calm down. Breathe.” He took a deep breath. “Again.” Once more, then another, and another. He focused on Dorothy’s eyes, and found his head beginning to clear from all the horrific memories, worries.

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered quietly, “I panicked…” 

“It’s alright,” Dorothy reassured. “You doing alright now?”

“I… I think so.”

A mild smile graced Dorothy’s face. “Good. Now, maybe I show you where you mixed up a few things?” Castiel bit his lip, but nodded and looked to where Dorothy had the mistakes me wrongfully made. “You see here?” She pointed to one of the figures, “This was supposed to be matched with this. And here,” she pointed to another, “you put the wrong name.”

Castiel frowned. “Oh.” He looked it all over once more. “I am terribly sorry for the troubles I’ve caused you. I understand if you don’t wish me to work for you anymore. I could--”

Dorothy let out a light chuckle. “No, Cas, you’re an excellent worker. Fantastic, at that. What we have here are common mistakes, but they just need to be watched out for in the future.”

“I.. I have to confess that I…” Castiel paused a moment. “I don’t have a proper education.” he confessed with embarrassment. Just went to show how stupid he was. _Pathetic._

“Really? Quite honestly, Cas, I would never have guessed.” He looked up to Dorothy, confused. “You are truly intelligent, Castiel.” 

Castiel blushed. “No, no I’m not I’m just a dumb, stupid--”

“Cas.” Dorothy placed a hand on Castiel’s lap. “You gotta learn to take a compliment, friend.”

The sides of Castiel’s lips lifted to a slight smile. “Thank you, Dorothy.” 

\---

A few hours past, bringing it now to mid-afternoon. Castiel was now looking through a stack of papers for the third time now, worried that there were still errors hidden between the text; maybe a little bit too worried.

“Cas, you should take a break! Everyone else is, maybe you could go outside and get some fresh air?” Dorothy suggested.

Castiel shook his head. “It’s alright, Dorothy. I have to get these cleaned up.” He quickly turned back to his work and searched for his mistakes intensely.

Dorothy walked up to Castiel and slowly placed a hand on his. “I think you’ve worked enough on those for a lifetime.”

“But--”

“No.” Dorothy guided Castiel’s hands away from the stack. “They’re fine. Now, take a break.” 

Castiel looked into Dorothy’s eyes before reluctantly obeying, rising from his seat. Dorothy offered him a small smile and took the papers he had so thoroughly went through, placing them down on her desk some steps away. He didn’t feel as if he had accomplished a thing. There was still so much that had to be done, properly, and fixed. He shouldn’t be doing this. _It’s not what I’m… I’m not made to be doing this. Yes, I am. No. Maybe. I don’t kno--_

“Done!” Balthazar chimed as he burst through out from the office, giant grin across his face. Castiel couldn’t help but find it slightly contagious. 

“Right on time, too. Everyone else in the yard’s taking a break as we speak. Maybe you’d like to go outside with them?” Dorothy motioned to the window facing the garage, and both angels looked outside. The alphas all seemed to be huddled in the corner, which was soon revealed to be where the water dispenser was set. Castiel’s eyes soon found his brother, all grease, dirt, and sweat covered from head, to wing, to toe. He was chugging down the fresh water he had just filled into his water bottle, as were many of them. 

What they did, what their service to mankind was, it seemed to be much more useful and significant than what Castiel and Balthazar do, or, _used_ to do. They even seemed to be almost on an even field with Dean and Benny, and even though Castiel knew he was also to some extent, it was different. Overall, it was confusing. From one moment, he felt completely comfortable amongst the humans, but that could easily change in an instant. Maybe this was becoming more apparent with the unending bouts of nervousness flowing through his body. He just wanted to get this day done and over with already.

Castiel snapped from his thoughts when he found Michael waving to him warmly, to which he returned with a faint trace of a smile. Michael seemed to be happy and somewhat content amongst his fellow colleagues and brothers-in-chains, but that neverending guilt bit at him, reminding him that the only reason Michael was a slave was because of _him._ Why did he always have to ruin everything? 

“Cassie, do you want to go out there with me?” Balthazar asked, set to leave and waiting at the door. 

Castiel hesitated, glancing once more to the angels outside the window. “No, I - I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” Balthazar whined, “Please?” He tried to pull the cutest puppy face he could possibly do, but that only left him looking ridiculous, but that’s what got Castiel.

“Fine, I’ll come with you. But that’s all.” Castiel gave in, amused by Balthazar’s expression.

“Good enough for me!” Balthazar grabbed Castiel by the arm and dragged him out the door.

“Have fun!” Castiel heard Dorothy say before the door shut. Balthazar let go of Castiel and they both slowly approached the small group of angels in the yard. They all welcomed them with warm smiles and friendly greetings. 

“Afternoon, Castiel,” Michael grinned. 

“Afternoon.” He glanced a bit awkwardly at the group. A small sigh of relief left his mouth when he spotted Dean walking out of the garage. Castiel didn’t feel like being around a group of people at this moment. Balthazar noted Castiel’s hesitation and allowed himself to part ways with his friend to join the other angels. Castiel lingered back, turning away and taking small steps to go lean against the wall. He watched as a few alphas stretched out their muscular limbs and dirty wings, working out any cramps. Some more followed the action, and soon the whole lot were fluttering smoothly off the gravel, gliding around one another in a playful manner.

Balthazar hesitated for a moment before Inias encouraged him to join. He seemed almost excited about it as he quickly stretched out his big, colorful wings and bound for the sky. The alphas landed in slight shock and some in disbelief as Balthazar flew much higher than any of their clipped wings could carry them. Balthazar realised this and returned to the ground, a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness evident on his features.

Balthazar quickly blurted, “Haha, wow, I didn’t mean to--”

Michael cut him off just as fast. “No, it was impressive.” Then, Michael spoke again, this time in a hush that Castiel could barely make out. “Just be more careful.” His brother placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and returned to the brief, shallow flight he seemed to enjoy well enough. The rest took that as a cue and returned to their games, Balthazar included. 

“That was different.” Dean said, appearing right beside Castiel. He hadn’t noticed his arrival, and it had startled him slightly. If Dean had noticed the startle, he dismissed it. “I didn’t even think omegas were capable of flight.” 

Castiel’s reply was only silence.

\---

The remainder of the workday passed, full of hard work and Inias making shitty car puns. Dean sometimes regretted giving the angels internet access, to be honest.

Benny started closing up, and Dean went to wash up. Dorothy knocked on the door.

“Yeah?”

“Dean, can I talk to you? It’s about Cas.” Dorothy called. Dean frowned, wiping his face and heading to open the door.

“What’s up? Did something happen? Is he alright? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He asked, worry lines across his features.

Dorothy laughed. “No, Mr. White Knight. It’s nothing like that. You know how we let Sam loose on a few of the alphas who hadn’t gotten a proper education?” She asked.

“Yeah, he made a whole curriculum. Weirdo. But they loved it.” Dean replied, smiling fondly at the memory.

“Well, it appears we might need to repeat the process with Cas. Balthazar was older when he was taken, but Cas was younger. He’s really smart, he picked up the lingo and structure of the paperwork just by going over it. It’s amazing. I think he might even be a genius, you know.” She added thoughtfully. Dean nodded. He hadn’t thought about Cas’ education, but it made sense. 

“I’ll talk to him and Sam about it.” Dean said. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“Maybe you should take him to the library before you go home, just reading could help with his grammar and spelling.” Dorothy offered. 

Dean hesitated. “I guess we could stop by. See you later.” He bade his farewell, and headed to find the omega.

Cas was sitting with the angels by the door to the basement, saying his goodbye’s. He smiled at the sight of Dean, and Dean wondered how far he would go to keep that smile from fading into the dark. 

The alphas filed down the stairs, and Benny locked the door. 

“I wish they didn’t have to go down there.” Cas sighed.

“You and me both, buddy. Don’t worry, it won’t be like that for too long.” Dean said.

Castiel just nodded, eyes distant. Dean decided not to press the issue. The angel couldn’t be expected to be social and chipper every minute of the day, especially after a long day’s work. Which reminded him of what Dorothy had said.

“So, I thought we’d stop by the library and check out some books, help you start on your new education. Because I’m gonna talk to Sam about helping you learn some stuff, trust me, he did it for the alphas. He’s a good teacher, actually. I’m surprised he didn’t go into that field, to be honest. He does love apples.” Dean mused, as they walked out the door and headed for the Impala.

Castiel frowned thoughtfully. “What does his enjoyment of a fruit - nevermind. I’m not completely uneducated, I just… haven’t got much of a chance to expand.” 

“Well, now you can do all the expanding you want.” Dean said happily. Castiel raised an eyebrow. Dean stuck out his tongue. “Oh, shut up, I’m not good with words.” 

“Obviously.”

\---

They got a few looks as they entered the library, but Dean quickly navigated them to the back of the reference section, away from prying eyes in between the towering shelves of boundless knowledge.

“We’ll grab a few non-fiction and a few fiction, cover all the bases.” Dean explained. Castiel ran his fingertips over the book spines almost reverently. He ended up choosing an encyclopedia on sharks, and a history book surrounding the civil war and the separation of the North and South. 

“What do you recommend when it comes to fiction, Dean?” Castiel asked, hugging the two books to his chest as they headed down the stairs.

“Well, my favorite book is Slaughterhouse Five, but that might be a little out of your range right now, and it’s a little intense. Harry Potter is like, a given. You’re pretty smart, and if you want a bit of a challenge… how about The Name Of The Wind?”

“Whatever you think is best, Dean. Where would we find these novels?”

They embarked on a quest after that, and halfway through, they rounded a corner to find a young man with blonde hair in a jersey leaning against the shelf, paging through Fifty Shades Of Grey with a grin on his face. Dean wrinkled his nose at the site of the book. The guy looked up, and his eyes zeroed in on Castiel.

“Nice sex toy, how much you charging?” The guy asked, directed at Dean, as if it were most casual thing in the world. Castiel ducked his head, and Dean shot the guy a glare that would kill if it could.

“A fist to your ballsack, asshole.” He snarled, and the guy’s eyes widened. He huffed, set down the book where it obviously didn’t belong, and stalked off. “I hope he gets hit by a car on his way out of here.”

“Wishing misfortune on him isn’t going to solve the world’s problems, Dean.” Castiel said quietly. 

“Yeah, but it sure makes me feel better. Don’t listen to douchebags like that, man, you’re not just an object. You’ve got a universe in your head, man. You’re deeper and better than they’ll ever be.” Dean said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Castiel glanced up at him, eyes distant, just like they’d been for the past few days. “Do you really believe that?”

Dean grinned. “More than you’ll ever know. C’mon, let’s get out of here. Sam probably has a copy of Harry Potter anyway, and we have a big dinner to get to.” He said, turning towards the end of the row.

“My parent’s make the best pot roast, you’ll love it.”

\---

Castiel sat quietly in the passenger seat with the books on his lap, watching the city scenery pass by. Not long from now, they’d be back at Dean’s apartment. Would his parents be there already when they arrive, or would they come later on? Would Sam and Jess be there? Would they stay with him, or leave him?

“Hey, think you could for me and grab a cassette from the glove box in front of you? Doesn’t matter which.” Dean said. 

He looked to the glove box and opened it. Inside, there were many crumpled papers that Castiel assumed must have held some sort of value, old candy bars and packs of peanuts, even a sock. He dug a bit more, and found the cassettes, grabbing the first one his eyes landed on. ‘ACDC’, it read in black permanent marker on a white sticker.

“Is this good?” Castiel asked Dean.

Dean looked over quickly and smiled at the cassette. “Yep! Just put it in. You know how to do that, right?”

Castiel’s answer was placing the cassette in the player without a single problem. It wasn’t like he’d never used a cassette player before. He did know _some_  
things. Almost right after, music blared from the speakers and Castiel winced. 

Dean chuckled and turned it down. “Not a fan?”

Castiel looked to Dean. “It was much too loud for this sort of… music.” he put carefully. This wasn’t exactly his forte. Dean chuckled again and they listened to Thunderstruck all the way back to the apartment.

They arrived a lot sooner than Castiel had anticipated. 

“My parents are already here.” Dean stated, looking to his dad’s truck parking in the lot. Castiel inwardly sighed. 

They entered the building and walked up three stories worth of stairs and through the door of Dean’s apartment. The delicious scent of food was immediately the first thing Castiel noticed as they walked over the threshold. His mouth watered and stomach grumbled.

“That you, Dean?” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“And Cas,” Dean replied. Castiel looked up from taking off his shoes at the mention of his name, becoming alert to his surroundings. 

“Well, come in and wash your hands. Dinner’s almost set.” said Mary.

“It’s like she thinks I’m five,” Dean muttered to Castiel. He gave Dean a small, slightly unsure grin.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Dean Winchester.” Mary warned. Dean snickered like a child and walked to the bathroom to do as he was told, Castiel following right behind him. They both took turns washing their hands and by the time they were done, Sam and Mary were setting the table. Sam had took some of the chairs from his apartment to seat everyone and the table would be crowded with them all, but Dean didn’t seem worried about that. Castiel just hoped he wouldn’t be seated beside John. 

“You hungry, Castiel?” Mary asked as she placed the last of the food on the table.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Castiel said carefully, trying his best to answer properly.

“Good, because I made lots!” She looked as if she were about to say more, but John spoke before she had the chance to.

“You been keeping busy, Dean?” John asked as he went to sit down at the table.

Mary swatted at her husband. “You, go wash your hands too.” Sam smiled at his parents and sat beside Castiel. The angel quietly exhaled in relief. Being sandwiched between the Winchester brothers wasn’t something he’d consider bad; quite the contrary, if he were to be honest with himself. He had become very fond of this family he was slowly becoming a part of. Speaking of, he didn’t see Jess when he came in.

“Where’s Jess?” Castiel asked Sam in almost a whisper. 

Sam smiled, as if it were his silent way to say ‘it is alright to talk’. “She’s still working. Actually,” Sam looked down to the watch fastened around his wrist, “she should be here any moment now.” 

“We’ll eat when she comes. The traffic isn’t to bad, is it?” Mary asked Dean.

He shook his head. “No, not when we were coming back, at least.” 

“Are you guys eating without me?” Jess walked through the door that conjoined their apartments. 

“We were waiting for you.” Mary replied.

“Not for too long, I hope. I wanted to change first. No need to eat in my scrubs; I wore them enough for one day.” It looked like there was more to that reasoning than Jess was willing to share at the moment, but that was perfectly fine. Her job was not an easy one, but it made Castiel happy that she does what she does. Jess is a good woman.

“Everyone’s here?” John asked as he returned from the bathroom.

“Seems as if.” stated Jess.

The family all sat around the crowded table and began to dish out the food and fill each others plates. Everything looked so delicious, and he found himself becoming impatient to dig in. He really was hungry. 

“Oh!” Mary said suddenly, “the drinks!” She got up and began to retrieve glasses from the cupboard. “What do you guys want?” 

“Beer’s good.” said Dean. Jess and Sam echoed Dean’s request.

“How about you, Castiel? Beer too?” Mary asked as she was pulling beers out from the fridge.

“Uh - no thank you. Water will be just fine.” Castiel remembered back to the last time he drank beer. That wasn’t something he ever wanted to relive. Dean, Sam and Jess all seemed to be remembering the same event also, trying to cover up their snickers. Castiel blushed and John looked at them all curiously. Mary placed the beers in front of them and went to go get cups for the water. 

“What, no beer for you, Dad?” Dean asked and eyed John suspiciously. 

Mary spoke before John could utter a word. “His belly’s getting too big, so I’m making him cut out all the drinking.”

“Hey!” John exclaimed. The three young humans laughed, and even Castiel couldn’t help but smile a little. That smile didn’t last long in fear of what John’s reaction would be to Castiel’s amusement over him being insulted. “I’m just trying to eat more healthy.” John said in attempts to justify the choice of his food intake. 

“I know honey, I’m just teasing you,” Mary placed a gentle kiss on John’s forehead. “But really, it looks like something’s baking in there.” John covered his stomach with a hand and scoffed, making them laugh merrily again, but Castiel kept his face guarded and found himself beginning to tense up. When Dean’s parents were around, Castiel immediately remembered his place, remembered how insignificant he truly was. He didn’t need to feel John’s gaze to fall into that submissive and obedient state that had been carved into his soul. He was nothing; he didn’t feel right sharing a table with them, feasting as an equal.

The family conversed over their meal, talking about many things. They did attempt to bring Castiel into their conversations multiple times, but he gave them little to say in response as he did his best to give them short, polite replies and leaving them at that. He was overly self-conscious. Was he eating too fast; was he eating too slow? Was he eating too much; was he eating too little? Could they tell he didn’t feel comfortable or… was he being rude? He wasn’t sure how he should be acting. 

“Can you pass the buns over here, sweetie?” Castiel realised that Mary was talking to him. Quickly, but with grace, he placed the bun plate in front of her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” he replied, returning to his food. Every bite was like having a taste of Heaven. “This is very good, Ma’am.” 

“Why thank you!” Mary gleamed. “But you know what, you can call me Mary.” Castiel looked up at her with uncertainty. “‘Ma’am’ makes me sound old.”

“But you are old,” Sam muttered. 

Mary playfully smacked his arm and shook her head. Turning back to Castiel, she said, “We’re family now, after all.” 

That caught Castiel off guard. _Family?_  
Why would she want to be family with a lowly slave? Castiel didn’t fully understand, but the notion touched him. He would gladly be her family. He liked Mary. 

But by what she said, did she include John when she said that, or just herself? Castiel glanced towards John just slightly, catching the disapproval and disgust in his eyes. Oh, so it didn’t include him. Or maybe it did. He didn’t know the full extent to the words that were spoken, but what he did know was that all of these people saw him as something more than he often saw of himself; all but John, that is. John knew. _“But maybe he doesn’t.”_ the voiced whispered deep inside his heart. 

Castiel wondered for how long he would be confused about himself. Some days, he believed himself Dean’s equal. That belief seemed to appear most often. But moments like these, or when he was around others, he was reminded that his rightful place in this world was to grovel at the feet of mankind like the worthless animal he was. His desire to eat had diminished. 

“Has your angel been useful to you, Dean?” John asked.

“Yeah, Castiel’s been helping Dorothy out at the shop.” Dean replied. 

“That’s wonderful. How are you liking that?” Mary asked Castiel.

“It’s rather enjoyable.” Castiel responded. 

“Why do you have him doing that?” John inquired, obviously confused as to why someone like Castiel would be doing such a thing. 

“Because he’s good at it.” Dean answered in defense. Castiel sat back in his chair and exchanged brief glances between John and Dean. The winds of tension began to churn over the kitchen table. 

“Well, I’m sure there are better things you could have him doing, and I bet he’s great at them.” John stated as if this were common advice to give your son. But what did Castiel know about human families? Maybe it really was just common advice. He looked down at his lap and fidgeted with his hands.

“John! The table’s not the place to be talking about this.” Mary scolded. 

He ignored his wife and kept going. “If you go treating him like your are now, he’s gonna go all funny in the head. You have to keep him in line and give him what he needs, otherwise you’re gonna have problems with him and he’ll act out, and you’ll have to put him down.” Castiel flinched at that and bit his lip. 

“Dad!” Sam and Dean scolded in unison. Jess and Mary looked at him with disbelief.

“What? I’m just telling you the truth.” 

“I told you to never, _ever_  
speak that way about Cas again! Nothing’s wrong with him!” Dean stood up from the table and glared down at his father.

“I’m right here…” Castiel murmured. Everyone sat silently and looked at him. 

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“I said I’m... I’m right here.” Castiel looked up and into each’s eyes. “You’re all talking as if I’m not here but I’m… I’m _right here._ ” He made two tight fists and found himself becoming angry. “If you’re going to talk about killing me,” Castiel glared at John, “then talk about it _to me._ You act as if it’s just an as-a-matter-of-fact thing, but is it, is it really? Do you really reason with killing someone just because they want to _live?_ ” His voice had cracked and his eyes shone with unshed tears, but his glare held strong. 

John’s expression hardened. “How _dare_ you speak to me that way, slave. You’re just an omega, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s _you_ who has absolutely no idea what they’re talking about.” Castiel shot back. 

John rose to his feet and made his way to Castiel, anger in his steps. Castiel did the same until they were standing face-to-face, Castiel standing a few inches shorter than John. John was trying to intimidate him, but Castiel was too angry, and only shot his look back in his face.

“Hey!” Dean put himself between them, afraid of what it might turn to be if it were left any longer. “What the _fuck_  
Dad!” 

“John, that was highly inappropriate!” Mary exclaimed. Sam and Jess looked outraged at the man. “I guess we’re done with supper,” Mary said with a sigh. 

“Unbelievable,” Sam muttered as he rose from the table. 

“Cas, why don’t we go watch tv?” Jess offered, gently placing a hand on Castiel’s arm. 

Castiel nodded slightly and turned to go after her, but stopped and said something only John would be able to hear: “You have no idea.” He left John with that, doubting that it would mean anything to the man. Mary dragged John into the kitchen with her and Castiel sat on the couch amongst his friends.

He tried to tune out the outburst that had just taken place between him and Dean’s father with the voices and pictures emitted by the television, but it was a task made hard when the man that had violated him in more ways than one was only a room away. 

The sounds of Dean’s parents could be heard from the kitchen, voices dripping with anger as they disputed. Jess turned up the volume of the tv in attempts to cover up their arguing. Castiel couldn’t make out what was being said, but something was telling him at it was about him, causing him to feel guilt. It was because of him that their meal had been disrupted, that they were fighting and everyone seemed to be upset. He didn’t want them to be that way, especially not because of him. _Stupid_  
He should have just kept his mouth shut and let John say whatever he wanted. 

_“What you did was right.”_ said the voice.

 _“Shut up.”_ A part of him thought that maybe, just maybe that wild card of a voice was correct on this occasion, but the guilt flooded out the resolve, leaving him feeling ten times worse than he had been the entire day. 

“Want some pie?” Dean asked with care. 

“No thank you. I’m not hungry.” Castiel muttered and focused on the tv screen. Right now they were watching some rerun from some show Castiel forgot the name of. Jess had mentioned the name when she selected the show, but Castiel hadn’t been paying much attention. 

Minutes passed, time Castiel spent steeping in undeniable shame and remorse. He was really hating himself right now and didn’t really want to be around anyone, yet he didn’t want to be alone. There was a certain fear that came with the latter that he did not want to determine at the moment. 

Dean’s parents both walked out of the kitchen together, Mary looking warily at Castiel and John not even glancing his way. Not like Castiel cared. “We’re going back to your place.” Mary said to Sam and Jess. 

“We’ll go with you.” Sam got up and opened the conjoining door for his parents. 

“Bye Dean, Cas,” Jess bade them farewell with a smile and left with everyone else. 

Castiel and Dean were the only ones in the apartment now.

“How are you doing, Cas?” Dean inquired with concern. “My dad really stepped over the line earlier. I’m going to talk to him, tell him if he ever talks like that again--”

“No.” Castiel cut him off.

“What?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why--why not?” Dean looked at him with confusion.

Castiel looked up at Dean before quickly turning his face back down. “Because I don’t want you guys to fight; not over me. It’s not worth the effort.”

“Cas,” Dean tenderly lifted Castiel’s chin so that he’d look to his face. “you’re worth fighting for, and the some.” Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. They both sat still in that moment, staring into each others eyes. They were so close, close enough that Castiel could feel Dean’s breath upon his face. Dean’s lips parted and he glanced down to his. Castiel’s adam’s apple bobbed nervously, looking at Dean with a lost expression. 

The connection, or whatever that was that just happened, was broken when Dean pulled back and cleared his throat, face turning shades of red. Castiel tilted his head with curiosity as to what was going through Dean’s head right about now. 

“Do you want to finish watching the show? There’s a few minutes left.” Dean scratched his head. Castiel nodded. They ended up sitting on the couch together long past the ending of the show. Castiel had somehow found his way tucked under Dean’s arm, snuggling into his chest. Neither of them mentioned it though. They just sat there, watching whatever tv program was on at the time. They sat there like that for hours. The mixture of Dean’s protective warmth and the sounds from the tv began to lull Castiel to sleep, drool dripping from his mouth.

“Hey, are you sleeping?” Dean asked.

Castiel shot up, startling Dean by his sudden movement. “O-oh I’m sorry I--” he wiped the drool from his cheek. “I drooled on you.” he confessed. “M’sorry,” He ducked his head and hoped Dean wasn’t mad with him. He wouldn’t blame him if he was.

Dean smiled. “It’s fine. I’ll just have to change my shirt…” 

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered again.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean patted him on the shoulder. “Ready for bed?” 

Castiel rubbed his eye sleepily. “Yes.” Dean lent him an arm and helped Castiel off the couch, leading him towards the bathroom. “Brush your teeth and get some sleep. Night, Cas.” 

“Night, Dean.” Castiel gave him a small smile before turning to the bathroom. Dean’s hand lingered on his until it was no longer in reach. Castiel tried not to read into what that could have meant; he was much too tired. 

The nightly ritual of preparing for sleep went by without much thought put into it. It was something that Castiel had become so used to already, that thinking during it was not really needed. The cuddling or… whatever that was, had calmed him down plenty, leaving feeling a surprisingly comfortable neutral. Maybe that was also caused by how tired he was. He didn’t really care; he just wanted to go to sleep. 

On listless feet, he padded his way back to his room. He stopped for a moment, glancing over to the gentle light illuminating from under Dean’s door. The light shifted as Dean walked through his room, until, it shut off. The apartment was now dark, quiet. He continued back to his room. 

Once his pajamas were on, he snuggled beneath his blankets and shut his eyes. Peace and rest welcomed him with open arms.

That sweet peace held Castiel close, cradled him like an infant. It whispered sweet nothings in his ears, and blessed his tattered skin with gentle kisses laced with warmth. 

But peace let go at the sound of a door opening. Castiel’s eyes shot open, but his body remained still. He thought that perhaps it was Dean, but no, inside he knew it wasn’t. The air did not feel right. 

The door closed as fast as it was opened, shut with silence. Castiel held his breath as footsteps began to come towards his bed, closer, closer. 

“I know you’re awake.” _John._ Castiel shuddered and clamped his eyes shut as if it would magically make the man go away. He could hear the rustling of clothing and felt a foreign weight sink into the mattress and crawl up towards him. Instinctively, Castiel began to curl up into a ball. 

John straddled Castiel and pressed him face down into the bed by the space between his wings, causing the angel to let out a small whimper of fear. “You humiliated me today,” John spoke into Castiel’s ear. “In front of my _family._ Nobody can get away without consequences, let alone a slutty slave.” Castiel flinched when the words were spat into his ear. 

“M’sorry,” Castiel whimpered. He didn’t think an apology would be enough for John to forgive him though. 

“Sorry won’t cut it, slave.” John roughly grabbed Castiel by the collar around his neck and began to shake him up and down, choking the poor angel. Castiel’s arms shot up and scrambled to release John’s hold on his collar. He fought John’s hold, but was too weak to make the man let go. John slammed Castiel’s head against his pillow by his neck and kept him pinned down. Castiel grit his teeth, feeling shame in the form of tears fall down his face as John roughly pulled off his pants. He knew what was coming next.

Castiel could feel the roughness of John’s hand and he slipped it between his cheeks, spreading just enough until he could feel the John’s tip attempting to enter his body in sloppy thrusts. He hadn’t been fucked for some time - it wasn’t going to be easy for John to-- 

He bit into his pillow to muffle a pained cry. John mercilessly began to thrust into him, and it _hurt_. It was too much, way too much. He knew the very moment that be began to tear and bleed, ripping him inside out.

“The only way you could even get close - to making up for what you did - is to take me like the slut you are.” John began to use more force and shoved Castiel’s head down into his pillow as he did, assuring that his pitiful sounds of agony wouldn’t escape the bedroom walls. It was hard for him to breathe, slowly being suffocated under John’s strong hand. Panic arose, taking over its frightened host, frighted from the past, the present, the future. As Castiel’s lungs begged for air, he began to hit and trash at the hand keeping him from the air he so desperately needed. The hand was reluctant, but it gave way and loosened its grip. Castiel gasped for air, small moans escaping as he welcomed the air back into his heaving chest. 

John’s hand snaked around Castiel’s neck and pulled upward, his fingers like a snare to Castiel’s delicate neck. Castiel let out a sharp gasp and clawed at the vice upon his throat, scratching hard enough to draw blood. “Why you little--” John snarled in revulsion, letting Castiel’s neck go only to punch him violently in the ribs. 

He was trying so hard to keep quiet, to let this happen as it always has, always will, but it was so hard. It was all too much, and he wanted none of it. John continued with his abuse, perhaps even more cruelly that before, not caring a single bit about the being beneath him. Castiel just laid there, forcing himself to take what he could not stop. 

That was when the words Dean had spoken came into mind. This, he didn’t have to go through this. This wasn’t sex it was… it was _rape._ He didn’t need to still under hands that brought him harm. He could fight. Dean told him he could fight, and that there was nothing wrong with doing so.

“S-stop,” The command came out of Castiel’s mouth in nothing more but a whisper. “Stop,” he said with more force, a bit louder this time. John’s response to his demand was a death grip upon his hips and thrust so fierce they drew the pitiful cries right of out him. He felt like he was being split in two, a pain he hadn’t felt for quite some time. It was like he was back to being a child, being taken for the first time with as painful as it was, scared and scarred in more ways than one. 

But what he did not have then was someone who cared for him and wanted nothing but good fortune to come upon him. Castiel had Dean. He wasn’t here right now but, he was only just a few rooms away. 

“Please I-I-I s-said stop,” Castiel mewled in desperation. 

“You think you can - order me around?” John smacked the angel upside the head with force, causing Castiel to fall dizzy for a moment. He didn’t like this. He didn’t want this. 

“Stop it! G-get off!” Castiel’s cry was shaky, but firm. He began to fight back, as feeble as it might be. He thrashed his arms and flapped his wings in John’s face. It caught the man by surprise, but he had the upper hand in the whole situation. “Get off!” Castiel cried again. John quickly pinned Castiel back down with his wrists in one hand and the base of his left wing bone in the other, pinning his right wing to his back with his elbow. Castiel stilled. His hand was too rough upon his wing. He didn’t like it, _no no no._

He had to reduce to his last resort. “Dean,” Castiel began to yell weakly. 

“No you don’t!” John bashed Castiel in the head. 

Castiel let out a sob from the blow. “Dean!” he called, voice cracking. “De--” His final call was cut off by having his head shoved into his pillow once more, only becoming possible when John sacrificed his hold upon his wrists to silence the angel. With his hands now free, he began to violently hit and scratch at John’s arms, which had already taken a small beating. John’s hold lessened, Castiel pulled his head away. Hands enclosed his soft, delicate feathers and held them tight. 

Castiel turned and looked up at John in an instant. “ _N’ don--_!” Torturing pain emitted from his left wing, immersing his body in cruel waves of agony, crippling his trembling limbs and turning his vision white. A deafening scream ripped from Castiel’s very soul, a cry so loud that even God had to have heard.

\---

Dean shifted in bed, and sat up. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around. He could have sworn he heard his name--

A horrible scream ripped through the apartment. Dean’s heart stopped in his chest. He’d heard Cas scream from nightmares before, but never like this. He jumped out of bed and ripped open his door, reaching for the handle to Castiel’s.

Locked.

Why would Castiel lock the door?

He heard pain-wracked breathing, and someone cursing under their breath. Someone who didn’t sound like the angel. Dean took a step back, braced himself, and drove his heel into the door with all his force. It splintered open, and he burst into the room.

His father was - no. This couldn’t be happening. He should have known. He should have kept this from happening. His vision turned red, and he charged at the man who had raised him, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him of Castiel, sending him tumbling to the floor.

“Why? Why do you have to be like this?” He shouted, guilt at not protecting Castiel, horror at his own father, and anger at the whole damn world roiling under his skin.

John struggled to sit up, pulling up his pants. “Dean, it’s not--”

“ _Shut the fuck up_! Just shut up! God, I shouldn’t - you - I--” He balled his hands into fists, and punched his own father right in the face as hard as he could. John’s head snapped back, and he looked dazed. Dean grabbed onto his shirt collar, and dragged him out the door. He needed to get him away from Cas. He’d look back, and wonder how he’d dragged a man half his size so easily. But at the moment, he was too furious to care. He tossed his father onto the living room floor.

“Dean, boy, calm down--” John said, holding a hand to his head and struggling to sit up. Rage exploded in Dean, and he ripped the lamp out of the socket and threw it at his father. It shattered against the wall next to him and landed on the floor, and John froze, staring at him.

“Don't tell me to calm down! Don’t you _dare_! You fucking - you _raped_ him, don’t you get that! He’s a person, Dad. He’s no less a person than you, and you raped him! It’s not okay because he’s an angel, if anything, it’s _worse_!”

“They’re just slaves--”

He was cut off by the door between the apartments bursting open, and the others filing in.

“Dean, what on earth is going on here?” Mary exclaimed.

“Jess, go take care of Cas. He’s hurt, bad. Because this fucking asshole thinks it’s perfectly okay to rape someone in their own bed!” Dean seethed, hands balled into fists. Mary gasped, and Jess raced down the hall without a word. 

Sam whirled on John. “I think the worst part is that I’m not even surprised. I’ve tried my whole life to figure out what kind of man you are. The man that taught me how to shoot, who came to my debate matches and cheered - or the man that raped Muriel, and didn’t even flinch when she killed herself in front of you.” Sam snarled. 

John’s eyes narrowed. “Did those fucking alphas tell you that?”

“We were there.” Dean snapped, the hysteria was gone, replaced by calm anger.

John stared at him. “What?”

“We were there. We hid behind the shelves, and we saw everything.” He explained. “She may have held the knife, but you killed her. I can’t believe that I even let you around Cas, after that, after what you did at work the minute you met him. I can’t believe I even still love you, after watching that.” Dean spat.

“I am your father, and you will not speak to me like this! They’re just slaves, Dean!”

“Then I’m just a bleeding heart, but I’m a bleeding heart with a fucking rifle in the closet and I’m not afraid to fucking use it.” Dean snarled in response. Everyone went quiet. 

John stood and straightened his clothes. “Fine. Fuck you, ungrateful children. C’mon, Mary, let’s get out of here.” He said, turning towards the door. 

Mary didn’t move. Her face was completely neutral.

He turned back towards her. “You comin’ or what, darling?” He asked.

She strode towards him, face blank, and kicked him right in the balls.

Dean and Sam jumped in surprise. He’d never seen his mother like this.

“What on God’s green earth--” John groaned.

Mary’s lip trembled, but her eyes were full of fire. “I’m done with your shit, John Winchester! You are _not_ the man I fell in love with! I don’t know what you are, but I know you aren't welcome here, _nor_ are you welcome at home. The house is mine, so don’t you dare try and cross my property line or I’ll put a slug in your gut before you can open your mouth. I’ve ignored you’re racist words and actions, and I’ve turned my back on the troubles of the South for too long! It’s wrong, god damnit! I’ve always known it, and I’m glad that Sam and Dean know it. Maybe someday, you’ll know it to. 

“How _dare_  
you do that to such a kind soul, how _dare you. You are a monster, do you hear me?_  
How can the father of my children commit such atrocities, I’ll never know. Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you _ever show your face again_! The last you’ll hear from me will be divorce papers!” She exclaimed, tears welling up in her angry eyes. She ripped of her ring and threw it at him. John flinched, and turned and left without another word. There was a moment of silence, before Mary fell to her knees and sobbed. Sam moved forward, and placed a hand on her shoulder, but Dean just stood there in shock. He struggled to get everything that had just happened straight in his head.

Mary sniffled, and wiped her cheeks. “It’s alright dear, It’s for the best. We better go check on Cas -- oh dear, oh god, I’m so sorry.” She sobbed, pressing a shaking hand to her chest and Sam helped her stand. At the mention of the angel, Dean snapped out of his haze.

_Cas._

He turned, and headed down the hall, slowly opening the door to the room. Jess was holding a shaking, sobbing Castiel. Her face was pale, and there was blood and feathers everywhere. Castiel was curled up awkwardly, his body tense and twisted in an unnatural way. 

“What can I do?” He mouthed to Jess.

Jess petted the angel’s hair softly. “Cas, sweetie, Dean’s here. How about you let me and him clean you up, and bandage your wing? Unless you want to go to the clinic, of course. Whatever you want.” She whispered softly. Castiel shook his head weakly and whimpered. “Okay, we’ll do it here. But this bed is soaked - how about Dean carries you out into the living room? Joh-- he’s gone. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.” She added tenderly. Cas pulled away slightly, shakily wiping a tear from his cheek, not looking up at them. Dean stepped forward, holding out his arms in the least threatening manner possible. Cas winced as he tried to move forward, his body shaking in agony. How he wasn’t crying his eyes out screaming in pain, Dean didn't know. 

_He’s probably used to it._  
A sinister voice muttered, and Dean’s heart panged. He scooped up the angel, trying to be gentle, but that didn’t stop Cas from crying out at the movement. Dean grimaced, and the angel’s injured wing shuttered awkwardly, unable to fold, but also unable to just hang there. A fiery anger burned low in Dean’s stomach at his father. The next time he saw the man, he’d rip out his heart and feed it to him. But that wasn’t important right now. Taking care of Cas was important right now. God, he couldn’t comprehend this. He should never have let this happen. Cas had been making so much progress, too. 

“I said no.” The angel whispered into his shoulder. 

Dean blinked, and nodded. “I know. You were right. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m the one who failed you. I’m so sorry, Cas. But I’m so proud of you. I promise it won’t happen again.” He assured the angel softly. Castiel just shuddered.

Dean swore to himself, he’d never let anyone hurt Cas again. Not while he still breathed. A solid, hard, unrelenting force welled up in his throat. He couldn’t comprehend the intensity of his emotions, so he just focused on Cas. Not that hard of a thing to do, to be honest.  
He set the angel down on the couch, and Sam and Mary backed up to give him space. 

“How about you two go clean up the bedroom while we take care of Cas here, alright?” Jess asked softly. Mary nodded wordlessly, eyes bright with tears, and they both headed down the hall.

“It’ll be okay, Cas.” Sam said before he left, head bent downward, unable to look at them. Dean felt what he felt. They had both seen what their father was capable of. They never should have trusted him around Cas. Dean hated the idea of Sam feeling even remotely as horrible as he did. Cas was his responsibility, not Sam’s. But Sam was an empathetic soul, an interesting trait in an aspiring lawyer. 

He helped Cas onto the couch, and he could tell the transition was painful but Cas just bit his lip and kept his eyes down. 

“Should we do you’re wing first, or….are you injured down there? Do we need to address that? You can tell us, I promise. And if you’re uncomfortable with us helping with that and you think you can handle it, we can leave you alone to clean yourself up if you want. But if you need us, we’ll always be right here for you.” Jess offered. 

Cas didn’t even glance up at them. “Wing first. Th-then I-I’ll clean... myself up. I’m used t’ it” He murmured weakly through pained pants, and Dean could have sworn he felt his heart rip in half. 

Jess pursed her lips and blinked back a tear, and offered him a small smile. “I’m going to go get my kit from the other apartment, I’ll be right back.” She said, and was gone. It was just Cas and Dean.

He just didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to deal with this, trauma and emotion and stuff, especially with Sam. He was a fucking piece of emotionally constipated shit and he always had been. He could rarely figure out what he himself was feeling, let alone others. 

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat?” He offered. 

 

Cas just shook his head, not looking up. He was trying to keep his agony at bay, withholding the sobs of pain that were threatening to escape his body. He had done enough damage; what exactly that damage was, he didn’t know, but he knew it wasn’t good. Castiel had heard them all yelling, and Mary crying. 

No matter how hard he tried to be good, it was never enough. He deserved this pain that tormented his entire being - everything to his body and soul, and anything inbetween. He was disgusting, wrong, worthless. The gaze Dean cast upon his pricked his soul like pin needles. 

“Hey, shh,” Dean gently brushed away tears from Castiel’s cheek. When had he started crying? 

Castiel flinched away from Dean’s touch, uncomfortable with the contact at the moment. Dean withdrew his hand and took a few steps back, hovering over him in uncertainty. 

 

Dean bite his lip and tried not ignore the way his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t be feeling so awful, he wasn’t the one who had just been raped.

 

Castiel couldn’t handle it. He felt exposed, ashamed, but overall, pain. Everything was sheer pain and it was becoming too much to handle. The tears flowed from his eyes more freely now, and he covered his face in attempts to cover his shame. “‘t hurts,” he cried into his hands.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Dean’s words were filled with sympathy, “Jess will be coming soon, and we’ll get you all better, okay?” Castiel only whimpered in response. Next thing he knew, a blanket was draped over his half naked body. It was a very small comfort. He was still very well aware of the fluids leaking from between his legs and -- oh god, they were probably all over Dean’s couch now making a mess of everything. He continued to cry. There was no way his sobs could he held back any longer. 

He was barely aware when Jess was at his side, saying something about a pill. _Pill--_ they’ve had enough of him. They had tried to put up with him and his constant misbehaviour since the beginning, and now they couldn’t handle him anymore and wished him dead by this -- this _pill._ He crossed the line, he was absolutely revolting and they didn’t want him anymore - wanting him _dead._ Jess brought the pill up to his mouth accompanied by a glass of water and put it to his mouth. Castiel began to shake his head fervently and sealed his lips shut as tight as they could possibly go. The extra movement shot more unbearable pain through his body, but the will to live surpassed even a pain that was as great as that. His arms thrashed about, knocking the water from Jess’ hand to the floor, cup clinking to the ground. Dean’s heart twisted.

“Whoa whoa whoa Cas!” Jess tried to calm to panicked angel. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

“No no no no no no,” the word flew out of Castiel’s mouth in a mantara. 

“Castiel, look at me.” Jess grabbed a hold of Castiel’s flailing arms and coaxed them back down to his side, letting go as he slowly began to calm. “Shhhh, it’s okay, I’m not trying to hurt you,” She spoke as if it were to a scared animal. He supposed that that was what he was. “Castiel, listen to me, I need you to listen.” He brought his attention to Jess. “Are you listening?” Castiel nodded slowly as he shook. “This,” she grabbed the pill again and showed it to Castiel. He whimpered. “this a very strong pain pill. It’s for _pain._ You want the pain to go away, don’t you?”

He nodded again. “...‘t hurts _so much,_ ” he mumbled through his tears.

 

Dean had to look away for a moment. He could barely handle seeing his angel in so much pain.

No.

Not his angel. He didn’t have any right to think of Cas that way, especially now.

 

“Dean’s going to go get some more water so it’ll go down easier, and then you’ll start to feel better okay?” She waited to continue until Castiel showed signed of comprehension. “It might make you feel a bit woozy, but it’ll take most of the pain away, okay?”

“Here,” Dean handed Jess a new cup of water. 

“Do you want to take the pain medication, Castiel?” Jess asked once more to be certain he knew what was happening. He responded by parting his lips and lifting his head to accept. _Pain. It’s for the pain_  
the thought rang through his head as it touched his tongue and traveled down his throat. 

“There ya go,” Jess cooed and ran a hand through Castiel’s sweaty hair in comforting motions. The effects of the pill weren’t immediate, but slowly, he began to feel it as the agonizing pain slowly drifted to a dull ache. His head did indeed begin to fuzz, and he wasn’t sure if this sensation was pleasing or absolutely terrifying. 

“How are you feeling, Cas?” Dean inquired. 

Castiel brought a hand up and spread his fingers, looking at the light that shone between them. He squinted his eyes. “I don’t really know. Everything feels funny.” His voice was hoarse from his crying, but he supposed it was better than his whining earlier. He was such a cry baby. Silly baby. 

“I think they’re working.” Dean mumbled to Jess. Jess couldn’t help but smirk when Castiel continued to squint and scrunch her nose at her. 

“You okay there?” Jess asked, kneeling beside Castiel. 

He looked to her, eyes widening. “My wing feels funny,” he muttered as if it were a secret. 

“That’s because you got feathers pulled. I’m going to clean the blood off your wing now, alright?” Jess held up a damp cloth, and Castiel nodded, granting her permission to touch a most delicate area.

“Happened before.” Castiel stated as Jess gingerly washed the blood from his tender, trembling wing. He could feel the pressure of the cloth against his sensitive wing in tiny tingles.

Jess winced. “You had feathers pulled before?”

Castiel nodded in affirmation, but that was not what he had meant. “In the bathroom at Dean’s parent’s house.” 

Jess stopped cleaning his wings.

“W-w _hat_?” Dean said in uncertainty, him and Mary looking at him with wide eyes. Wait, when did Mary get there?

“You were washing dishes.”

“W-wait, are you saying that--”

“He told me not to tell you.”

 

Dean felt like the world had just dropped out from under him. The next room, Cas had been raped by his own father, and he had been none the wiser. He’d promised Cas he’d protect him. How could he have failed the angel so many times, so horribly? “Wh--”

 

“He said he would hurt everyone if I did.” Then, that is when Castiel realized. “I just told you… now he’s gonna--” He quickly sat up on the couch, knocking Jess in the face with his good wing and knocked her to the ground. The blanket shifted, exposing new and old marks on his abused skin. 

Jess quickly got up from the ground and confronted Castiel. “Hey hey hey no it’s okay, you need to sit down.”

“Your eyes are watering.” Castiel said in observation of Jess’s features. He looked to Mary and frowned. “Your eyes are too.” 

“Oh god,” Mary placed a hand over her mouth and more water came from her eyes. Sam brought her into a hug and -- wait. When did Sam get there? Where were they all coming from? 

“Cas, I’m so sorry but you just,” Jess sniffled a little and lied him back down, “you have to stay still, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m already hurt enough, you couldn’t hurt me. You’re too nice to hurt me.” Castiel chewed on his non-existent thumb nail as she continued to clean his wound. “So nice.” 

Jess attempted a small chuckle. “I try my best.” 

“And you’re really nice too, Mary,” Castiel spoke to the older woman. “My mother wasn’t nice,” he got quiet and barely murmured, “she sold me.”

She shook her head in disagreement and possibly shock. “I-I’m not really I--” 

“It’s okay, Mom,” Dean comforted. _Nice. All these people are nice._

Jess put the dirty cloth on the floor and reached for the bandages, only receiving them with Dean’s aid. Castiel looked down at the cloth, bloodied by his damaged wing. Pity they dirtied a cloth on something as worthless as him. He couldn’t really find it in himself to care though, which was odd. Maybe it was because of this pill that he felt so silly. 

The bandage was wrapped around his wing, enveloping it with a pressure that wasn’t exactly comfortable. Castiel squirmed, and Jess tried to calm him. “I know it hurts, but you have to stay still, okay?”

“Don’t like it,” Castiel muttered. 

“I know, but it’s to help you feel better. There.” She finished wrapping his wings. It tingled and made him uncomfortable. 

Dean came into Castiel’s view and knelt beside him. “Hey buddy.” 

“Dean,” Castiel’s face lit up. He reached out and poked Dean’s nose. “Boop.” He giggled. Dean was silly. 

“Well, atleast you’re feeling okay.” Dean gave him a small smile.

“Cas, I’m gonna have you clean you up now, alright?” Jess said from behind him. 

“Okay,” He didn’t really understand what else there was to do when she had already-- _oh._ Jess had moved the blanket and began to clean between his legs with a warm cloth. He fidgeted, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Jess apologized.

“I - I can do it.” He offered and tried to turn around, but both Dean and Jess stopped his movement with gentle hands. 

“I’m sure you can, but right now you’re gonna have to let me help you, okay?” Castiel reluctantly surrendered and settled back down. “I think I should give you a more thorough check-up tomorrow at my clinic. You have a bit of tearing.”

“It’s okay, it’ll heal on its own. It always does.” He stated in almost a cheerful manner. “I think my body’s formed an immunity.” He was looking through his hand again, giggling as Dean appeared funny looking between the cracks of his fingers. “I don’t feel anything.”

“That’s because of the pain meds, Cas.” Dean told him with a sad smile. 

“Oh,” He forgot he took that. _Silly  
_ Castiel giggled again. “Dean, you’re funny.”

“Why am I funny?” Dean asked.

“You act too nice.” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and intertwined their fingers together, grabbing and letting them go in a continuous rhythm. “You don’t have to be nice anymore, Dean, I understand.” 

“What, no - Cas, why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” 

“I’m no good.” He smiled up at Dean.

Dean’s expression fell. “No Cas, you’re--”

“It’s okay Dean, I’ve accepted it. It’s nothing that can be fixed, and that’s okay.”

“Cas, don’t talk like that, man.” Dean carded his fingers through Castiel’s damp hair. “You’re an amazing guy, and what happened tonight wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t hate yourself so much.”

“Well, neither should you.” Castiel resumed his giggling when Dean look at him with shock. “You’re so silly.” 

“Cas is right,” Jess agreed, “about both things.”

“Hey!” Dean exclaimed, but soon a smile appeared on his face, which mirrored the one Castiel already wore. He liked it when Dean smiled. 

“There we are.” Jess put the cloth down and pulled the blanket back onto Castiel’s frame. “Dean, could you grab him some clean clothes?”

“Sure.” Castiel watched as Dean walked into his room, and watched as he came out with fresh underwear and pants in hand. “Here, I’ll help you.” Dean offered.

“No it’s okay I can--” Castiel stood up but quickly began to fall to the ground, barely missing the hard floor as Dean caught him. “Oh. I think I need help.” Castiel admitted sheepishly. 

“That’s alright. Here, stick a leg out for us.” Jess said. Her and Dean were patient as he tried to direct his wobbly limbs in the leg holes of each piece of clothing. It took some time, but it was achieved. “You tired, Cas?” Jess asked after they were finished dressing him.

“Yes, I believe I am.” he replied, taking a moment to yawn straight afterwards. 

“We’ll get you to bed.” They lead Castiel back to his room, fresh sheets awaiting for him on his bed. 

“N-no, I don’t want to.” Castiel began to weakly fight their hold as the approached the room. He didn’t want to go back in there. Not after what happened in there. _Pain._

“It’s okay, Cas.” said Sam. Castiel looked at him oddly. How did he disappear and reappear like that? “You got clean sheets and everything. You’re safe now, nothing’s gonna happen to you.” 

Castiel considered this. “Okay.” He nodded weakly and let Jess and Dean resume to helping him back to his room. They set him down on his bed gently and tucked him in. 

“The meds will begin to wear off in the morning, and you’ll definitely feel it.” Jess informed Castiel. “We’ll give you another then.”

“If you need anything, just holler, alright?” Dean told him. 

“Okay.” Castiel acknowledged, eyes already beginning to droop. He was already beginning to drift off when Dean and Jess said their second goodnights of the evenings, and as soon as the door had shut, he we off into a heavy sleep. 

\---

The minute Dean was around the corner into the living room, he slid down the wall and put his head in his hands.

“It’ll be okay, Dean. I”ll take him into the clinic and stitch him up, give him antibiotics.” Jess said softly.

“Just because you can patch up his body doesn’t mean you can heal the inside, Jess.” Dean said brokenly. “I failed him. How could I fuck up so bad? How could I let this happen?” He snarled to himself, pulling at his hair.

“Dean, this wasn’t your fault. It’s John’s, and John’s alone. He did this. None of us could have possibly known that this would happen. Blaming ourselves won’t do anything to help Cas right now. We just have to be here for him.” Sam said softly, face full of compassion.

Dean sighed, and there was a long moment of silence. 

“Michael is going to kick my ass into next week.”


	11. Ripping Wings off of Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super long holy shit, I hope you guys don't mind.

_“D-dean, please, please - shit, oh god--”_

_Dean grinned against the angel’s neck, sucking on his pulse point as he slammed his hips in again, causing Cas to arch in pleasure as he fucked right into all the right places._

_“You like that? Me inside you, marking you up?” Dean whispered in his ear._

_Cas nodded breathlessly, pushing back against him. “I’m yours, yours, yours, yours...”_

…

Dean woke up with a start, heart pounding and cock hard. He immediately felt shame wash over him. He shouldn’t be dreaming about that, or even thinking about Cas in that way. He had no right. Especially after what happened, not after how he’d failed him. Guilt twisted through his gut, and the boner wilted. He thew of the blankets and swung his feet over the edge. He put his head in his hands and tried to force down the roiling emotions. He didn’t deserve to feel this way, he didn’t have time for this pain. He had to be strong for Cas. He’d promised. 

He’d broken all his promises to the angel. A burst of anger caused him to stand up and punch the wall with a cry. The dry wall caved him, and his knuckles smashed against the structure underneath. Pain shot up his arm and he sank to the ground, hand throbbing and heart full of agony. 

Suddenly, Mary was there, a hand on his shoulder. “I know, darling. I know.” She whispered, face haggard, as if she hadn’t slept.

“I should have--”

“Don’t think like that. It’ll tear you apart. Trust me, I know. You better go wake up Castiel; Jess says she needs to give him more medicine before they go to the clinic.” She suggested. “But take some medicine for yourself first, okay? And try not to go around punching anything else, alright?” She said, running her fingers through his hair. 

He leaned into her touch. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Be there.” She replied softly. “It’s what you do best. Being there for people.”

"Sometimes being there isn't enough." Dean responded in a tired voice.

"Maybe not, but it’s a start." Mary sighed, eyes clouded with things he didn't want to try and imagine. “I’m going to go make breakfast.” She said, and was gone. Dean stayed there for a while, taking deep breaths before standing and heading across the hall and into Castiel’s room.

Cas looked surprisingly peaceful, but that could probably be attributed to the drugs Jess had given him. Dean hesitated, heart heavy. He hated to wake the angel up, back into the waking world of pain. 

He reached down, and gently shook the angel’s shoulder, calling his name.

Castiel stirred, eyes blinking open slowly. He turned towards Dean, and then immediately froze, crying out in pain as his wing unfolded by instinct. His eyes snapped open, full of pain and fear, and Dean hated himself more by the second. He crouched down next to the bed.

He wished with all his heart he could take the pain away somehow. Kiss it away. Punch John’s lights out to make it go away. But he couldn’t, and he hated being so helpless.

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay Cas. You’re okay. I’m here, you’re safe. I know it hurts, but Jess’ll be around with some more medicine and then she’ll take you to the clinic and get you all fixed up, okay?” Dean assured him. Castiel’s eyes focused on him, bright with tears the angel seemed to be struggling to contain, taking deep breaths.

“W-will you come with me? You don’t have to, of course, you have work, I just… the l-last time they took me to a clinic…” Castiel whispered, shrugging and then wincing at the action.

“Of course I will. I’m not... I’ll never leave you alone again, unless you want, okay? I’m not going to let you down again. I failed you, and I’m so sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know. I’ll do whatever you need, okay? I’m right here. Let’s go out to the living room and get some medicine and breakfast, how does that sound?” Dean tried to sound as upbeat as possible, flashing a signature Dean Winchester grin. Bright, but fake as hell. One of his only skills. He wondered if Cas could see right through him.

 

Castiel could hear the sincerity and slight desperation in Dean’s voice. His smile brought him a small comfort, but even he knew Dean was only wearing it just for him. He didn’t feel as if he deserved it, but it was generous nonetheless. “A-alright, Dean.” He tried to give him a small smile, attempting the mask the pain, but that didn’t seem to fool Dean at all. In fact, it seemed to bring more sadness to those beautiful green eyes of his. 

Dean left the room and went to Jess. Castiel shifted slowly, trying to look through the open door to whoever was outside of it. Dean was talking to who he assumed must have been Jess in a hushed voice. Holding his breath, he strained to hear what was being said. 

“Jess he - he doesn’t look so good.” 

“I know. But… he’ll get better. It’ll take time but - Dean, don’t look that way. It wasn’t your fault.” He could hear the sound of the pill container being opened. 

“I know but, I can’t help but feel like it is. I mean, I _promised_ him I’d keep him safe and then--”

“Dean.” There was a pause. “What happened happened. All of us wished it didn’t, but it did. Right now, we have to be there for Cas. God, I can’t even imagine…” Jess trailed off and then said, “Maybe you should call Balthazar, let him know what happened.”

Dean huffed. “He’ll sure give me an earful when he finds out…”

“Well, maybe just tell him that we want to pick him up to get him checked out, make sure he’s healthy. He sure seems it though.”

“Yeah, yeah he does.” 

“Well, you call him, and I’ll go tend to Cas.” Jess left Dean and stepped into Castiel’s room. He watched her with careful eyes as she approached. “Morning, Castiel.” She offered him a smile. He didn’t have the energy to try and return it. “I got you some pain medication here. Want to take it?”

Castiel couldn’t help but hesitate. His entire body ached. His wing was throbbing, shooting pain through his spine, and his ass and lower back followed that same rhythmic pain. Everything hurt, and he felt disgusted by his own skin. A combination of slick and blood had leaked out of his abused body, sticking uncomfortably between his cheeks. With teary eyes, he took the pill from Jess’s hand and took it with a sip of water, trying to ignore the strain it put on his sore, tense muscles in his bruised neck. 

“There you go,” Jess placed the glass of water on the nightstand and ran a hand through Castiel’s damp, greasy hair. “Maybe before we go to the clinic I’ll help you take a bath.” Castiel lowered his gaze and looked to the edge of his mattress. He really didn’t want anyone to see him right now, especially naked. He knew that Jess was only wanting to help, and maybe by then he would need help as he’d be under the effects of the pain medication. “Only if you want me to, Cas. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want.”

“No no it’s - I-I think it would better if you did.” He looked up to her again. “Sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing you should be apologizing for,” she told him gently. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” Castiel didn’t really believe her, but he let her say whatever she wanted. She smiled down at him and walked off to his dresser, going through the drawers and grabbing clean clothes. The lighting in his room was dim, so he couldn’t really make out what exactly she had picked out for him. He didn’t really care though; as long as he wasn’t left naked. Not now. 

Jess tucked the clothes under her arm went back beside Castiel’s crumpled figure that laid atop of the bed. Extending her free arm she asked, “Ready to go?” He reached out to grab her hand, but pulled his trembling hand back and took a moment to contemplate his current situation. The medication was just barely beginning to take effect, his body still pounding with pain as if it were the Devil’s drum. _I will begin to feel better soon_ , he knew, but exactly when, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to make Jess wait for him, burdening her more than he already has. 

He could suck it up. He’s dealt with this before. 

Castiel took ahold of Jess’ hand and let her help him up, wincing as the pain fought against his body. He couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped his mouth as he sat up on the bed. 

“You doing alright? We can wait a bit longer, if you need to.” Jess offered.

“N-no I - I-I’ll be just fine.” He strengthened his hold on her hand and trembled as he got on his feet. Castiel’s breath began to labor. Jess offered once more to wait until the meds kicked in, but he declined. He wasn’t weak. He could make the small trek to the bathroom. 

_Small trek_ , yeah, that’s what he kept telling himself. They were barely out the door to his room and he already felt like he walked miles. When the finally made it out, he could feel the others looking at him with sympathy. It hurt. They should - they should hate him. What he did it - it was almost unforgivable, and maybe it was. 

He managed to walk the rest of the way with Jess’s aid, not looking up from the floor the whole way. Castiel watched his feet with every shaky step. Left foot, right foot, left foot again. And finally, they reached the bathroom. Jess closed the door and Castiel braced himself against the sink. He could feel the meds finally kicking in, body slowly becoming a numb fuzz, and the pain becoming tolerable. 

“Do you want me to help you get undressed?” Jess asked gently. 

“I…” Castiel wasn’t sure. He didn’t want her to think he was completely helpless. True, the damage done upon him was grave, but he was still capable, at least, to some extent. “I don’t know.” he answered honestly. 

“I’ll let you do as much as you can yourself, if you’d like. But if you need a hand, don’t be afraid to ask. It’s what I’m here for. I’m here for you.” 

Castiel gave a slight nod in understanding and hesitatingly began to pull down his pants. Even through the numbness of the drugs, he still felt shame. He understood that Jess has probably dealt with many similar situations in her working career, but this was different. She knew him, and he knew her. This was more personal. And after what he did, what he let happen he - he just couldn’t understand why she was being so nice to him and--

“Castiel, it’s okay,” Jess placed a hand over Castiel’s trembling ones. He was crying, he realized. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized (why, he had no idea), voice wavering. Castiel looked to her with uncertainty and found that she was struggling to keep her composure. She took a deep breath and gave her head a shake. “Here, I’ll - I’ll help you, alright? Just, just try to relax as much as you can. You’re doing so good.” 

He did his best to follow Jess’s directions and tried to relax. It was easier said than done. The medication granted a certain numbness throughout his body, but it wasn’t strong enough to reach the depths of his emotions - not yet..

“I’m going to help you out of your shirt now.” Jess informed him. He nodded and slowly lifted his arms and Jess took the shirt off of him with care. He stood there silently as Jess began to fill the tub up with warm water. 

Castiel was overly aware that the mirror was right in front of him. He turn his down and away, but he could still catch a glimpse of his disgusting body. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He didn’t like himself, not one bit. 

“There’s enough water for you to go in, if you want,” Jess was standing beside him again. He nodded silently and let her lead him and help him into the bathtub. Castiel’s legs were shaking much less than before, but they weren’t still enough that the steps into the tub wouldn’t be without a tumble if it weren’t for Jess. With a hand against the wall and the other in Jess’s, he eased himself down to the bottom of the bathtub, water sloshing up his back as he immersed. He moved his hand through the soothing water, watching as the water moved through his fingers with interest.

The pain medication finally seemed to kick in into full gear, his mind becoming light. He looked down to his hands and closed them into loose fists, weakly attempting to crush the water they were under. Could one crush water? 

“Here, let’s take these dirty bandages off your wing.” Castiel felt tight tingles coming from his wing as she undressed it. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the wrapping drop to the ground, covered in blood. He must have hit it during his sleep, causing it to bleed so heavily. The cool air hit the open wound, and he shivered. Jess hummed a tune Castiel was not familiar with and damped a cloth in the water pouring out from the tap and gently dabbed at the wound, trying to clean off the excess blood. It tingled.

She continued to hum, voice slowly soothing the angel. He could feel himself finally beginning to relax. Castiel closed his eyes and tuned out his thoughts, and entered the void of his mind, only sound being the gentle sound of Jess’ voice. He was there for what seemed for years, yet only a few mere seconds. _This is what immortality must feel like_ , he thought to himself. 

Castiel was ripped from his eternity when Jess ended humming and spoke to him again. “Can you tilt your head back for me so I wash your hair, please?” Her request was asked in the same gentle tone her voice was in her song. Castiel abided and did as he was asked, slightly discomforted in the exposure his bruised neck was now given in this pose.

Water was slowly poured onto his head with a plastic container. He closed his eyes, and allowed himself to enjoy the calming water that seeped through his thick dark hair and danced against his tender scalp. A few small trails of water managed to fall down his face, but it didn’t bother him much as he had his eyes closed. 

He kept them closed as he listened to the sound of Jess placing the container down and opening the lid to the shampoo. She placed what sounded to be a diligent amount in her hair and rubbed it together in her hands, bubbles starting to lather in between the palms of her hands. “I’m going to put shampoo your hair now.” Jess told him before massaging the shampoo into his wet mop of hair. 

“That’s nice,” He let out an unintentional noise of pleasure, Jess’s finger seeming to do all the right things in all the right places. _That doesn’t sound right  
_ She indulged him with shampooing his hair probably longer than she needed to. 

“How’re you feeling?” Jess asked. 

“Better.” Castiel grinned. This was an artificial mellow, Castiel knew, but he didn’t care one bit. 

\---

Dean fiddled with his phone. He sighed, and hit the contact labeled _Balthazar_

_  
What’s happening, Dean-o? Cassie alright?”_ The angel’s voice came over the speaker.

Dean was treading on thin ground. He probably shouldn’t say it over the phone… he should let Cas handle it when they see each other. 

“He’s okay.” Dean lied, “I was calling to ask if you want to come in to the clinic with Jess and us? She wants to give you and Cas both a check-up, health wise.” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“ _Like, what? For diseases and stuff?_ ” Balthazar asked, an edge of fear in his voice.

“Yeah, and just health in general.” Dean replied. He understood the angel’s standpoint. It had to be a pretty big fear - he didn’t imagine most of those men at the brothel had bothered with condoms, and the South didn’t really care if people didn’t use any form of birth control or disease prevention for angels. To them, they were easy to replace.

“ _I guess if Cassie’s going, I’ll go. See you later then._ ” With that, they hung up. Dean leaned back in the couch and listened to the sound of Mary and Sam’s hushed voices in the kitchen, and running water down the hall.

When did his own heartbeat get so quiet? 

\---

“S-so, he had only that one omega down there?” Mary asked, staring down at her tea. Sam hated how hard she was trying to hold it together. His mom’s life just had the rug swept out from under it, but she was trying so hard. It wasn’t from his father where he got his strength.

“Yes. But Michael said that Muriel wasn’t the first. There were two more, before hand. Michael says that the he sold the first, and then second one fought too hard, killed two alphas and then escaped. Their names were Katefiel and Lilith.” Sam explained.

“He just kept buying more omegas? I wasn’t enough for him, he had to--” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath, brushing the hair out of his face. “Explains some of our money problems, that utter jackass. And this Muriel girl...killed herself? And you and Dean saw it?”

“We saw everything. Watched him rape her, watched her kill herself, watched him throw her out as if she were just another piece of trash. We - Dean and I - we even talked to her bit before Dad came there and… she was _terrified_  
of us. We were just kids, and we frightened her.” Sam paused and look down to his feet before he started again. “Before then I was on the fence on the whole treatment of angels. You thought it was alright, Dad said it was perfectly fine, and even Dean said it was okay. But after we witnessed that I - we knew.” 

Mary’s face twisted in guilt. “I’m so sorry. I - I never should have lied for so long just to try and keep the peace. I knew it was wrong, deep down. I always did. I just wanted to pretend like everything was fine.” She sighed.

“I know. But that doesn’t matter anymore. You’re the greatest mother anyone could ask for.” Sam said, reaching to take her hands in his. 

She smiled at him. “Do you think…” She cut herself off, shaking her head. Sam gave her a long look, and she caved. “Do you think Castiel hates me? I wouldn’t blame him if he did. Not like, _hate_ me, as in I did something to him, I mean… do you think he’ll find it hard to be around me? Be repulsed by me, because of John? How can he not look at me and see my husband?” She worried.

 

Sam shook his head. “Cas isn’t like that. Besides, if that were the logic we’re going on, he wouldn't be able to be around me or Dean, would he? Cas will be okay. We’ve just got to help him heal. The thing is, in the middle of all this shit, I’m actually a little happy.” Sam added thoughtfully. 

Mary cocked her head. “You really are the strangest child.” she commented. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “No, really. I mean, what happened was fucking awful. I wish it hadn’t happened at all; I’d give anything to go back and stop it from happening, don’t get me wrong. But… it happened before. Right over Dean and you. Only a few rooms away. And you didn’t know. Why? Because Cas didn’t want you to know. Probably for a lot of reasons… John threatened him, apparently, he was ashamed, and didn’t want to cause trouble, and I’ll bet you my favorite jeans that he thought he deserved it, that he wasn’t worth anything more. You didn’t know because Cas kept quiet. I bet that’s what’s been ingrained into him. To just go limp and shut his mouth. Wait for it to be over. That’s what they do to the angels.

“But this time… John had more than a few scrapes and bruises, and Dean wasn’t responsible for all of them. Cas screamed for help, he screamed for Dean. He asked for help, and that makes a world of difference. I’m not completely sure of a lot of things in life… but I am sure that Castiel is making progress. And that’s all we can ever hope for, in the end, no matter what side of the Wall we’re on.” Sam shrugged.

Mary smiled at him brightly, tears of pride in her bright eyes. She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve raised the most wonderful boys.”

\---

Castiel was now seated at the kitchen table, a cushy pillow between his bottom end and the wooden chair. With his hair and wings still damp from his bath, he sat silently and thought over the conversation he had just overheard from the kitchen. 

He had been sitting there long enough to hear what he assumed was the majority of their conversation. Or, the most crucial, at least, to him, as it had been mostly about him. 

Mary had been concerned that Castiel hated her now, with after what happened. _Hate her?_ How could he? She was everything he wished he had in a mother, and last evening she even considered him to be _family_  
No, he could never hate her. He had liked her almost instantly when he had first met her. There was still, and probably always will be, a gushing wound from what his mother did to him, but even after all that, he still craved a mother’s gentle hand.

And then there was what Sam had said. He was _proud_ of him? Castiel didn’t fully understand, but he felt a small weight that was dragging him down begin to lift. His limbs felt numb, and his head was a bit cloudy. It’s then when he realises how vulnerable he is in this state, and yet, he felt oddly safe, maybe even content. He supposed that they have proven their immense care for him on more than one occasion, this one coming close to the biggest one of them all. That one time Dean saved him from dying had to take the cake. Wait, how could it take the cake? Why did it want cake? What kind of cake did it want?

Sam and Mary walked out of the kitchen then, eyes meeting with the angel, both approaching him slowly.

“Good morning, Castiel.” Mary said warily, looking rather haggard and tired as if she had not yet slept. He assumed that was the case, as she had quite the night herself. 

“Morning.” Castiel gave her his best smile. 

Dean joined them in the room. “Did Jess go to get dressed for work?” he asked Castiel.

“Yes.” 

Dean nodded and went to the kitchen. “Jess says you need to more liquidy food at the moment. Yogurt alright with you?” Castiel nodded faintly, but realised right after that Dean probably wasn’t looking to him. 

“He says yes,” Mary translated for him. He looked to her thankfully and awaited his food. Castiel understood why Jess wanted to change his diet for the time being, and he was thankful for that. He knew he was torn up, and the softer the food, the easier and less painful it would be for it to heal. 

Dean placed a small bowl of yogurt in front of the angel. Castiel gave him a look of gratitude and picked up his spoon with a hand that didn’t feel like his own. The medication definitely did his work; he felt barely any pain whatsoever, but he wasn’t very fond with the other effects it had on his body. He tried to ignore the unfamiliar and uncomforting feeling and proceeded to eat. The others soon joined him at the table, including Jess, all eating their own breakfast. A few of them exchanged words with each other, but Castiel couldn’t find the energy to listen to their words as he was having enough trouble guiding the spoon to his mouth.

He was finding it oddly tricky to keep the spoon still and straight enough that the yogurt wouldn’t fall over the edge of the spoon. A few times it had dripped over and back into the bowl, falling like it was soup. Castiel giggled. All the other occupants at the table looked up from eated for a moment, curious as to why on earth he’d be finding any humor after everything he’s been through. “Soupy soupy.” he giggled again, taking a spoonful of the yogurt and pouring it back into the bowl, each time watching the substance intensely. 

“Uh, Cas, do you need help with that?” Jess asked, attempting not to smile. 

“I have it aaaalll under control.” Castiel said before finally returning to eating his food instead of playing with it. “S’good.” he said with a mouthful of yogurt, some dripping out of his mouth as he ate. Dean reached over and wiped the yogurt off his mouth with a napkin, failing at fighting off a smile as he did so. Castiel gave him a small grin and returned to eating, as did everyone else.

“Have you had enough to eat, sweetie?” Mary asked him when he finished a fair amount of his food. 

Castiel nodded, and watched her as she took a handful of plates to the kitchen and started to fill the sink with water for washing. 

“Ready to go, Cas?” Jess asked.

Castiel nodded and began to push back his chair so he could get up. The legs of the chair moved noisily against the floor. “Oops,” he muttered quietly. He got up from his chair with the pace of a turtle and pushed it back in. Jess and Dean walked alongside him, willing to aid him at any moment. He walked as far as he could on his own, which was through the apartment door and inside the elevator. His independency was starting to take his toll on his weak body.Jess and Dean picked up on his evident struggle and decided to help guide his shaky legs. They were so nice and helpful to him.

Dean opened the left back door of the car and Jess helped him inside, making sure his wounded wing was out of the way when she closed the door. A moment after, and Dean and Jess were both seated in the front seats (Dean in the driver and Jess in the passenger, of course), buckled in, and off the went to the clinic.

Nervousness was beginning to bubble inside of Castiel. He never liked clinics, nor hospitals. He couldn’t recall if he’d ever been to one back North or not, but every experience he’s ever had in one left him terrified. _Dean’s with me_ , he reminded himself, knowing that he would make sure he stayed safe. He knew this, but the fear wouldn’t let go of him. 

“Is Balthazar coming with us?” Castiel asked. 

“Yes, we’re going to get him right now.” Jess answered. Castiel let out a sigh of relief. Dean would be there, and he was guessing that Jess would be the one looking him over, but Balthazar, having Balthazar with him there would make it better. Balthazar was his best friend, and he loved him very much.

They slowed as the pulled up to Benny’s house - well, it was Balthazar’s too now - and just as Dean put the Impala into park, Dorothy and Balthazar walked out of the house. She said something to Balthazar before he looked both ways and stepped off the porch, making his way to Dean’s car in a hurry. 

Balthazar slid in through the side door, adjusted his wings, and smiled at Castiel, but that smile soon disappeared as he took in the state Castiel was in, nose flaring. “Cas,” he almost gasped. “What… what happened?” 

“Oh, just a bit of a rough fuck. How is your morning?” Castiel’s response was way too cheerful The awkwardness in the atmosphere spiked to an all time high, and Dean and Jess exchanged a glance. “What?” Castiel asked as he looked at the worried stares. “This is like, a normal Sunday afternoon for me.” He scratched at the tender skin under his collar and looked out the window.

It was Balthazar that broke the tense silence. “I - Cassie, your wing--”

“Hazard of the job.” Castiel didn’t let him finish. 

“Castiel, no.” Balthazar scolded. Castiel shot him a look at the unexpected response. With a more gentle voice, Balthazar started, “It’s not like that anymore.” Castiel’s expression softened as Balthazar reached out and held his hand. Dean seemed to understand that Balthazar would take care of Castiel for now, so he started off to the clinic. 

Castiel stared down at their entwined hands until he finally gathered enough courage to look Balthazar in the eye. “Please don’t say ‘I told you so,’” he pleaded in a soft whisper, a bit of himself sneaking back from his slightly drugged state.

“No, I would never.” Balthazar rubbed his thumb on the back of Castiel’s hand and looked at him with empathy. 

With spending such great amounts of time with the other angel, Castiel had earned the ability to read almost every thought in his head, just by reading the expressions on his face. He could tell right now that he was feeling guilty. What would he have to be guilty about? There was also dread written in the creases of his forehead. Castiel read that as the simple yet complex fear of clinics, and left it at that. He feared that if he dwelt on it any longer, he conclude to something more extreme. 

“Hey,” Castiel brought his hand to Balthazar’s cheek and stroked it with clumsy fingers, sudden urge to comfort his friend. “Don’t get yourself worked up over petty matters.” He gave his cheek a pat, harder than he had originally intended and caused Balthazar to flinch.

Balthazar looked at him with suspicion. “Are you… are you _okay_?”

Castiel grinned. “So many drugs...”

“Pain medication.” Jess turn to Balthazar and specified. 

“Well that explains why you’re handling the pain… so… well?” Balthazar watched him with faint amusement as Castiel began to giggle. 

“Side effect.” Jess said. “And his walking’s tipsy.”

“It’s a bit tiring.” Castiel stated.

“And drowsiness.” She added.

Dean signalled a turn just before they pulled into the clinic parking lot. ‘Angel Haven Medical Clinic’, read the sign above the entrance. _Sounds warming_ , Castiel thought after his unfocused vision was finally able to make out the letters. But, looks can be deceiving. He would never forget that. As the vehicle was put into part, he felt a bit of fear rise up. 

“We’re here.” Jess announced. The began to exit the car and headed to the clinic entrance, Balthazar at Castiel’s arm. He seemed to be doing fine with just his help, but that didn’t stop Dean from hovering beside him, willing to help at any chance he was given.

Castiel cringed when that smell he placed with complete terror filled his nose. His pulse quickened and his eyes darted around, seeking out the danger and preparing to dart out of there. “I don’t want to--”

Balthazar was quick to put attempts in quelling his fear. “It’s alright, we’ll be okay. I’m here with you.” 

“Cas,” Dean placed a hand on Castiel’s arm. “Nothing bad’s going to happen here. Jess will be the only one treating you, and I’ll be here with you the whole time to make sure you’re safe, alright?” 

Castiel looked to him. “Alright, Dean.” Dean flashed him a smile and they walked further into the clinic. 

The interior looked warm, walls painted a shade that couldn’t quite be placed and pink, neither red, and topped off the white trim. The front desk was a soft oak, and without and attendant. Wait, why was he paying so much attention to interior decor? 

“Now, you have to make sure that doesn’t get wet, okay?” Castiel turned to look at whose unfamiliar voice had just spoken. Just outside the waiting room, a female nurse was kneeling in front of a young beta girl, about five years of age, arm wrapped in a cast. By the looks of her worn dress, he gathered that she was most likely from a labor mill. The young angel nodded at the nurse and looked up at the woman who must have brought her here, awaiting her orders. The nurse pulled a lollipop out of her pocket. “Want one?” She offered the girl. Her face lit up, and said many thank-you’s as she took it and popped it in her mouth, big smile on her sweet face and her little gray wings fluttering with glee. 

Castiel watched the little angel as the woman payed for her treatment. The girl turned her gaze to him and frowned when her eyes landed on his wounded wing and began to walk towards him.

“Auriel, get back here.” the woman called to the girl in a gentle-yet-firm way when she began to walk away from her. The girl - Auriel - ignored the order and continued on, stopping when she got in front of Castiel. 

She took the lollipop out of her mouth and held it towards him. “Here.” she offered. “You deserve this more than me.” 

Castiel smiled down at her. “No, I’ll be alright. Thank you for offering, though.” She looked a little disappointed at his response. 

“Don’t worry, little one.” Jess said to her, crouching down to her level. “He’ll be able to get his own after I fix him up a bit.” 

Auriel seemed to lighten up a bit knowing that. “I hope you feel better soon.” she said to him quietly in her sweet, childish voice before the woman who had brought her there pulled her away from him, scolding her for disobedience once they left the clinic, saying: “If you run off again I’ll have to put you on a leash.” Castiel hoped she didn’t get into trouble because of him. She was only showing him kindness.

“She’s a cute kid.” The nurse from behind the desk said. “I wish I could keep her.” Castiel eyed her warily.

“You say that about all the kids who pass through here, Cecily.” Jess stated. 

“That’s true. They’re all just so cute!” Cecily chimed cheerfully, but her demeanor soon changed. “I just wish they could have better.” She turned to Castiel and return to that cheery air she seemed to wear. That must get tiring after a full day’s work. “So, you’re the angel I’ve heard so much about!” 

“Jess… talks about me?” Castiel was almost shocked.

Cecily let out a light laugh. “She sure does.” She stood up straight and put on a more professional face. “I’ll let you go get all patched up now. I’m sure you’re just waiting to sit down.” 

“Let’s go. Cecily already got two rooms ready just for you guys.” Jess said as she led the way, clipboard in hand. Again, Castiel was feeling nervous - no, _afraid_.

They didn’t have to walk far until they reached the room that Jess was showing them to. With much hesitation and a bit of a helping hand, Castiel entered the room, heart pounding against his chest. He understood that both Dean and Balthazar would be with him at all times as he was in the room, but try telling that to his panicking heart. 

The walls inside the room were the same color as the rest of the clinic, and a few friendly looking paintings were hanged upon the wall, as if it were to distract the victim from the instruments hanging on one side the wall and the pristine examination table, along with all the other things he was unfamiliar with, but had no wish to become acquainted with them. His feet stopped working, and Dean and Balthazar ended up dragging him a bit before they noticed his stop in movement. 

“You doing alright?” Dean asked. “You know you’re safe with us, right? Nothing bad will happen to you. I won’t allow it.”

Castiel exhaled a shaky breath. “I know, Dean, and thank you. I just - I--” He looked down to the linoleum tiles. 

Dean looked at him with care. “You what, Cas?” he asked softly. 

“I-I’m… afraid.” Castiel finally admitted in a soft whisper. “I don’t want to.”

Dean encased Castiel’s hands with his. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.” Castiel nodded, but still didn’t look up from the spot he was staring intently on the floor. 

While this happened, Jess had prepared the table and held something in her hand. “I got this gown for you, and I need you to put it on right behind that drape over there. Do you want me to give you a hand?”

“I’ll help him.” Balthazar said without hesitance. 

“I can do it myself.” Castiel cut in, arms crossed and face in a pout.

“Nonsense. You can barely even lift your feet by yourself. Come along, let’s get you dressed to impress.” He took Castiel by the arm and led him behind the curtain. 

Castiel huffed. “I barely believe that _thing_  
could impress anyone.”

“You may be surprised.” Balthazar remarked as he helped Castiel out of his clothes and into the gown. His body was covered - well, to some extent - but he still felt naked. He didn’t want to go back out there; he just wanted to go home.

_“Home?”_  
the voice asked him curiously.

_Yeah, home._ Dean’s apartment really was his home. 

_“Home… it’s where the heart is, as cheesy and lame as that sounds.”_ he remembered Meg telling him once. 

No, he couldn’t be thinking of her right now. Or ever.

“There, you’re all ready. let’s go.” Balthazar held onto his arm again and began to lead him out from behind the curtain, but Castiel pulled his arm away. Balthazar looked at him, confused.

“I don’t want to.” Castiel shook his head and closed his eyes. 

“But Cassie, you have to. You were hurt, badly enough to get proper medical attention. Jess is a good woman, she’ll be careful and take good care of you. You don’t have to worry.” he said in attempts to console him. 

“Don’t want to.” Castiel repeated stubbornly. 

Balthazar sighed. “Castiel.” He placed his hand beneath Castiel’s chin and directed his face towards his, giving him a stern look.

“Okay,” Castiel caved and stepped out from behind the curtain with Balthazar's help. He looked at Dean and Jess with determination and turned around, lifted up his gown and extending his buttocks towards them. “I’m ready.” he announced. 

“Cassie! Don’t do that!” Balthazar acted quickly and pulled his gown back down. Dean and Jess were taken aback from being mooned so unexpectedly. 

“But doesn’t Jess want to look at it?” Castiel went to lift it again.

“Yeah she does, but not like that.” Balthazar gently grabbed his hands and guided them away.

“Here Cas, how about you come over here.” Jess beckoned. 

Balthazar helped him over towards Jess and Dean just as a knock sounded at the door, and everyone looked to it. Jess all exchanged them all a look before walking over and opening the door. 

“I’m ready for Balthazar, if he is.” Cecily said as she peered into the room. Balthazar exchanged a confused glance at both nurses, unsure of what was happening.

“She wants to take a few tests, give you a full examination.” Jess clarified. 

“But… what about Cas--”

“I’ll be fine.” Castiel spoke up.

“Are you sure? What about--”

“Bal, I-I’ll be alright. Go.” Castiel shooed at him with his hand.

“Alright alright, I’m leaving. Lead the way, ma’am.” Balthazar addressed nervously. 

“Cicely’s just fine.” She smiled and led Balthazar out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Jess helped Castiel up on the examination table and had him lie down on his stomach. “Just lay your head down here.” She placed a folded towel beneath his head and gave him a reassuring smile. Castiel felt the panic returning, remembering all the past traumas done to him over the years in places that were meant to bring healing, not harm.

“Hey, look at me.” Castiel looked to Dean, who hand pulled up a chair and was sitting beside him. “Don’t worry about Jess. I’m here. You’ll be okay.” Castiel nodded weakly and focused on Dean’s voice.

 

“Alright then, I guess we should get started.” Jess announced. Dean watched anxiously as she parted the back of Castiel’s hospital gown, revealing the curve of his ass, but Dean wasn’t remotely interested. All he could see was the _bruises_ , marring his pale skin with blotches of painful color. His skin was already disrupted by countless scars, and now it was accentuated by the shapes of fingers, of fists, agony engraved into his very body. Dean balled his hands into fists, suppressing the urge to rush out of the room and strangle John to death.

Castiel was obviously fighting not to be tense as Jess parted his cheeks, examining his entrance. She didn’t cringe, so Dean took that as a point in a better direction. Her eyes were clinical and sharp. Sometimes he forgot that underneath her warm, caring exterior, there was a structure of iron, unmovable in a storm, determined to carry whatever weight she wanted to. That those eyes, while surrounded by smile lines, could diagnose almost any sickness by a glance. Why she hadn’t become a doctor instead of a nurse, he had no idea. It wasn’t the money; she could get a full ride. But she had her motives, he supposed.

“I’m going to touch you now, you probably won’t feel much, if anything at all, but I just want you to know that I’m just checking for fissures and bleeding, okay?” She said to Cas. Cas nodded silently, his face a little pale. She continued her examinations, finally taking a swab of the inside of his passage and putting it on a strip for testing for certain bacteria and viruses. 

She eventually pulled away, stripping off her gloves and pulling on new ones. “The rim of your rectum itself is slightly torn, but omega slick has helpful healing properties. You seem to be intact on the inside, luckily. A bit raw, however. You may experience muscle spasms for a while. We should pick you up some stool softeners and keep you on a softer diet, to be safe, if only for a while. Don’t want to aggravate anything. Now, let’s take a blood sample, and then take a closer look at that wing.” Jess announced. “You can turn around now, and sit up if you want.” She clarified.

Castiel slowly flipped over, wincing as he rose. Jess tied off at the top of his arm, and rubbed her thumb under his elbow to bring up the vein. Castiel’s eyes were wide with fear as he stared at the needle. Dean stood, and offered his hand. Castiel took it and squeezed it without hesitation, holding it in a death grip. Dean assumed the angel couldn’t feel the needle as well as when he wasn’t drugged up, but he still seemed uneasy as she drew his blood. He imagined that the atrocities he suffered hadn’t been restricted to just a sexual nature. He still had no idea the extent of things they did to Cas. He wondered if he would ever know. Did he deserve to be the person Castiel opened up to? Did he deserve to presume he was anything other than a caretaker to Cas? And a shitty one at that. He’d failed the angel, multiple times. He’d fucking failed to keep his promise, and Cas had suffered for it.

He suddenly wondered what would happen once they got to the North. He hadn’t really thought about it, and at that moment the realization hit him that Cas and Balthazar wouldn’t stay with them, probably. They’d probably go off and have their own lives. Why shouldn’t they? Castiel owed him nothing. He had no obligation to Dean. Dean had no right to wish for something more between them, or to assume Castiel would stay with him once they crossed the Wall. He was probably better off without him, anyway.

Jess passed the vial of blood to another nurse, got rid of the syringe, then placed a band-aid over the place where she’d drawn the blood. Dean moved back as she continued with a general check up, which took twenty or so minutes. 

“Well, that’s that! We’ll get you that stool softener, and some low-grade antibiotics. We’ll have to wait for most of the test results, but certain ones should have come through by now. I’ll go get Balthazar and the test results. You change back into your clothes, okay?” Jess said, heading out the door. Then it was just them. Dean silently handed Cas his clothes, and the angel slowly pulled them on, the medicine starting to wear off.

\---

Balthazar played at the seam of his shirt nervously as he followed Cecily to another room, his big, colorful wings folded as tightly as they could against his back. He didn’t have the same fear of these types of places as Castiel did, but his trust for the human race had faltered ever since he was swept away and forced into slavery. She seemed kind enough, but this wasn’t the kind of fretting that would disappear just by the smile from a friendly face. 

This fear he felt wasn’t exactly caused by her. He worried about what she would find, or he supposed, _could_ find. He was afraid that there was something wrong with him, damage in the physical caused by filthing and violating him to an extent that could not be fixed. 

Cecily held the door open for Balthazar and closed it behind them. The room was smaller than the one Castiel had been admitted to, but it still held many similarities. 

“So, first off, I’m Cecily, as I already said. We’re going to do a routine check-up today, make sure you functioning the way you should--”

“Like a sex machine?” Balthazar asked with traces of suspicion as he sat down on the examination table.

“That’s not the word I’d use.” She smirked. “A healthy, happy, strong omega angel, that’s what I’d use.” Cecily pushed up her glasses and smiled with sincerity. 

Balthazar fidgeted and looked up at her. So, she was one of the good bunch, he figured just from that statement. It was still a bit early to judge, but he had seen the way she was with that little girl earlier, and her attitude towards his kind seemed genuine just as much then as it did now. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to find out.” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Here,” she said as she handed him a gown similar to the one Castiel had been given, “you can put this on behind that curtain.” She gestured towards the other side of the room.

“Splendid.” Balthazar made his way to the other side of the room and pulled the curtain behind him. He huffed as he attempted to pull his shirt over his head. He’d think that being naked in front of someone would no longer be embarrassing. Maybe this flush against his cheeks was because his body was about to be thoroughly examined by this nurse, attractive one at that. Oh right, and she was going to mark down all the problems he had and pick and pry at things he’d either want left unheard or unknown. With a reluctant sigh, he put on the gown he was given and returned to the room.

“Your wings, they’re at a very large size for an omega.” Cecily observed. 

“Uh-huh.” Balthazar slid off his pants off and looked away from her as she approached him, her eyes examining every inch of him that wasn’t covered. His skin wasn’t as damaged as Castiel’s, but over the years in that hell hole, he’d gathered a small collection of his own. They were such ugly things, and it wasn’t as if he needed the marks on his skin to remember what his life had become.

“May I?” Cecily asked before taking a closer examination of Balthazar’s feathers. 

“Sure.” He blurted and watched her with careful eyes. Her touch was very gentle, and it brought tingles of pleasure that flowed down through Balthazar’s back to the rest of his limbs. Such a touch as light and soft as hers brought his body to an immediate state of relaxation, almost as if he were putty. It was... odd, really, no one in his entire life had touched him in such a way, except and Castiel and… and _Her_. Yes, this touch was one of the more sexual nature. A touch such as this rendered the omega almost motionless and pliant was considered private, only a touch meant for an angel and their partner. An omega’s wings, they were far more precious than a vast amount of the South’s inhibitors knew, including the some of the angels themselves. When touched the right way, they could become a puppet in the other’s very hands. Castiel’s touches had only ever been to sooth him in the worse of times, not like when She would kiss him and touch him and -- no no no, he promised that She was of his past and to be never thought of again, even when he still felt Her emotions in the back of his mind. It only brought him pain. But no this, this touch, it was not right, it was more like Hers, very much like Hers.

“By the looks of these,” Cecily spoke, hands still touching his wing, “you’re bonded with someone, and for some time too.” Balthazar shot his head up at her as quickly as he could in this vulnerable state Cecily had him in. “Can’t be that other omega - his wings are still in their natural state.”

“How…” was all Balthazar was able to mutter. 

“How I know how to do this?” She touched him in all the right places again and he shuttered, “Or how I know that you’re bonded with someone?” Cecily’s hand left his wings and he sighed when he finally got control back to his own body. “Your wings are healthy!” she announced. 

He gave her an unsure, fearful look. “B-both, h-how?” 

“Truth is,” her voice got a bit more quiet as she proceeded with the check-up - ears, eyes, mouth, heartbeat, “I moved here from the North to try and do what I could to help you guys. It’s - it’s absolutely monstrous what you guys are forced to go through.”

Balthazar chuckled. “And you’re telling me?” He smiled sadly as his mind flashed through every single mistreatment. “But… wait a minute.” Balthazar sat up and looked at her skeptically. “That means you knew _exactly_ what you were doing when you were touching my wings like that and how it’s considered _highly_ inappropriate, especially since you knew just by looking at me that I was bonded with someone.” Any safety that he once had left and his instincts were to bolt out of there, but he stayed seated and still, just as it got beaten into him. This would be the time he’d start making smart remarks and inappropriate comments. “Or are you just another monster like every other human you claim to be so better than?” Okay, that wasn’t exactly what he was going for, but it was too late to swap those words out for something with a more light, witty spin to it.

Cecily immediately saw her wrong and her face wore an apologetic expression. “I’m very sorry, I passed some boundaries with you that I shouldn’t have, definitely, shouldn’t have. It’s just that, uhh,” she flustered, “that technique it - I tend to use it to calm omegas when they first come in so that the rest of the time is a bit more easy for them. I see now that,” she gave a little laugh, “that it wasn’t the right thing to do with you. Definitely not a-and - I’m really sorry I - I hope you can forgive me.” 

Balthazar felt a bit bad after the apologizes and the explanation. It made sense that she thought he didn’t understand the touching, as its meaning became heavily lost in the South. “I suppose I - it might have helped if I shared that I am also from the North.” He said slowly, a bit hesitant in sharing this information. It was easier just to pretend to be from this god forsaken land than to admit to how big of a loss he had truly been forced to feel, and how he was stupid enough to be taken away from what many here can only dream about. 

Cecily’s eyes flashed with a variety of emotions upon hearing this, and Balthazar watched her quietly, wondering if he should have even said anything about it at all. “What age were you when you were taken here?” she finally asked.

“Seventeen.” His mind couldn’t help but drift back to the faint memories of the comforts of the home he left behind. He wondered if they thought of him at all, what must have gone through Her when She felt his agony at the back of Her head, through the bond that has somehow withstood all these long years.

Cecily winced out of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, truly, I am.” He could tell she meant it, but his only response was a shrug.

Alright. Enough of this touchy-feely-sad shit. 

Balthazar clapped his hands together once and put on a grin. “So Doc, you ready to drive deep into my dripping wet crevice?” He gave her a wink. 

Cecily’s eyes widened at Balthazar's suddenly changed mood, but she played along for his sake.

“First off, it’s _nurse_. Nurses down here can do pretty much anything a doctor could back North, except for operations.” She smirked mischieviously. “And yes, Mr. Cotton Swab has to take a swipe at that ‘wet crevice’ of yours.” 

“Pure joy.” Balthazar beamed. See? Wasn’t it much easier this way?

She shook her head briefly. “If you could be so kind as to lie down here and place your legs here.” Cecily directed. 

“Of course.” Balthazar obeyed and followed her politely-delivered order, lying down on his bare stomach and placed his legs on the rests. He tucked back his wings just enough that they wouldn’t flap about, yet wouldn’t hinder the bid of work Cecily had to do. Oh, yep, there she went now, swabbing away, finding whatever impurities lingered down there. She was done quickly, thank heavens. It was hard to stay relaxed enough for her to do her job. 

“Like what you see?” Balthazar said to break his uncomfortableness. 

“Everything looks to be in top shape.” Cecily stated.

“So, you _do_ like what you see?” He waggled his eyebrows at her as he peered over his shoulder.

“Yes, I supposed I do.” She wrote down a few things on her clipboard. “There, you can sit up now if you’d prefer.” Yes, yes he would. He sat up and covered himself with his no longer existent decency. The room was beginning to feel rather chilly. “You can also put your clothes back on,” _Finally_ “unless you’re hurting anywhere that shouldn’t be.” 

“Nope, everything feels dandy.” He gave her a curt nod as retreated back behind the curtain and began to put his pants back on, if not in a bit of a hurry before he returned once more. 

“I’ll just need to take a few quick blood samples from you, and then you can do back to Castiel!” Cecily said happily. 

_Oh._

Right, there was still… _that_ … 

She noted his fear and was quick to speak. “Don’t worry, it’ll be quick! Just have to make sure you’re healthy, and then you’re free to go.” 

Balthazar nodded and let her draw his blood, turning the opposite way as she did. He did not like the sight of his own blood, or no one’s for that matter, but much less his own. 

“There we are! Now, I’m going to go drop this by the lab, and have Jess come and retrieve you soon. It shouldn’t take long.” 

“For sure.” Balthazar smiled and watched as she left the room.

With each minute’s wait, he played with the seam of his shirt nervously.

\---

Jess returned shortly, Balthazar in tow, soon taking his place right beside his friend. Jess was pale, holding a sheet of paper.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked instantly, heart skipping a beat. All eyes turned to her, and she pursed her lips, looking down at the paper.

“Neither of you tested for some of the more common minor bacterial STDS that are often found in angels that have been submitted to slave brothels.” She started. “Most other STDS will take a few days for the tests to process. There is one major one, however, that we get results for immediately. It’s called ABD, Angelic Breakdown Disorder. It’s common name is Atomic Bomb.” She explained, in a clinical fashion, as if she was resorting to reciting information to keep from crying. 

Dean felt his chest constricting in on itself. “That doesn’t sound good. Did the tests come back positive?” he asked.

“One of them did.” She said, finally looking up. She looked straight at Balthazar, tears brimming in her eyes. Balthazar’s eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder, but was silent.

“What does that mean? Is it fatal?” Dean demanded in a serious voice. 

“In the long run, yes. There is a cure, but it’s only available in the North. We have treatments that can stave off the effects until then. I’m sure that he’ll be fine, but… ABD has an unpredictable timetable. It could progress fully in a year, twenty years, in a week. The treatments only help so much if the disease begins to set in. And if we don’t get the cure before a certain turning point...there’s nothing we’ll be able to do. But considering that it hasn’t yet shown any visible symptoms, if we start treatment with Prometheazol, we should be okay. But I can’t make any promises.” She explained.

“What does it do, the disease?” Dean asked. Balthazar was staring down at the floor with distant eyes. 

“It’s all in the name. It’s transmitted by angels and humans, but it doesn’t affect humans. It attacks system after system, and tears the body apart. It hits the nervous system first, then the lymphatic system, then the immune system, the digestive system, the urinary system, the respiratory system, the endocrine system. Depending on treatment, severity and rate, the disease can kill within a matter of days or years. But it’s a horrible disease - the first thing to go is faculties. Memory, awareness, proper thought connection, communication. Have you noticed anything like this, Balthazar? Lapses in thought, judgement or control over your limbs?” Jess asked.

Balthazar glanced up, and then looked down at his hands. “I-I guess, sort of. I kept telling myself that it - that it wasn’t a big deal. I-I wake up sometimes, and I forget that I’m in the South. I-I think I’m back home. And not, like, for a minute. I get really confused for like, the entire morning, except I do remember things, shards of memory, during that… confusion. It always fades eventually.” He admitted. 

“What?” Castiel looked up to him in shock, only hearing about this just now. Balthazar didn’t look at him.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. Just, like, deja vu or some shit. I didn’t - I wanted to believe so hard that I wasn’t fucking _dying_.” Balthazar replied, throwing up his hands.

Jess shook her head. “Don’t think like that. You’re going to be okay, okay?”

“I-I thought that if I didn’t talk about it, it wouldn’t be true.” Balthazar exclaimed. 

Jess set the paper down, and cupped his face in her hands. “We are going to take care of you, okay? You’re going to be fine. I’ll fill you out a prescription for Prometheazol right away here and it’ll hold off the progression of the ABD, alright? There’s no need to worry further, as long as you take the medication as prescribed, you’ll be fine.” Balthazar gave her a small smile of defeated sadness and looked away from her gaze out of shame. Dean felt like his heart had sunk to the bottom of his stomach. 

When it rained, it fucking poured.

\---

They headed back out to the car, and they were all silent, and Balthazar had his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Dean?” Cas asked softly, looking out the window with a distant expression. Dean turned.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean responded, making his voice casual and light, despite the heavy weight of his mind.

“Could we… John, he threatened Michael and Balthazar. Could we stop by the shop, to see him? I just - I know it’s silly, nevermind.” He shook his head, but Dean turned the ignition with a forced smile. 

“No, it’s not silly. Of course we can.” Dean assured him. Cas just nodded silently out the window, staring into nothingness. The rest of the car ride was full of silence, and Dean was both dreading and looking forward to the fact that Michael was most certainly going to kick his ass.

They pulled into the shop parking lot, and Jess immediately left to find Dorothy. They entered the main room, to find the angels taking a lunch break. They all looked up, and as if they could smell that something was wrong, and went a little pale. Michael and Benny both stood up and looked at the three of them with tight expressions.

“Castiel is injured. I can smell it - what happened?” Michael demanded. All the other alphas shuffled, staring between the standing people.

“John happened.” Dean bite out. Michael’s expression twisted in understanding and rage.

“You _promised_ me, Dean Winchester! I trusted you to protect him from that bastard! You should have known better, you human fool!” Michael snarled, stalking forward. The alphas and Benny scrambled back, watching with wide eyes. Anger practically seether out of Michael.

Dean stood his ground. “I know. I failed, trust me, I fucking know. You have no idea how I feel, so don’t try and guilt me anymore.” Dean replied.

Michael’s feathers raised, and his huge, clipped wings flaring out in a threatening display as he balled his hands into tight fists. “This isn’t about how you feel! _My_ brother has _suffered_ enough at the hands of men, and _now_ , that includes _you_ are _your_ negligence--” He began to shout, and his body was posed as if he intended to hurt Dean, and Dean wished he would. He deserved it. He opened his mouth to shout back, to let out all the anger he’d been keeping in, but they were both interrupted by Castiel forcing himself between them. 

Dean blinked, stepping back in shock. All day, Castiel had been passive and distant. Now, he was anything but. He stood firm, his smaller wings fanned out in anger of his own, shoulders set. His eyes didn’t just burn with fury, they were practically an inferno, smouldering with righteous anger. He fixed both of them with it, and Dean felt more intimidated by him in that moment than any human or alpha he had in the past.

“Stop it! You’re both the fools! Don’t you dare get in a cock fight over me! I made a choice, I made it, _me_ , not anyone else. I decided the first time not to tell you for my own reasons. It’s no one’s fault what happened besides John’s - not Dean’s, not anyone’s, and for once in my life, I’m starting to realize that maybe it _isn’t_ exactly mine either, as hard as it is to believe.” He paused for a moment, taking in this new information. “Don’t you dare talk about failing me! Don’t you ever fucking say that!” He snarled, voice low but sharp. Everyone in the room was silent and wide eyed. Castiel rounded specifically on Michael, and the alpha of alpha’s cowered back, wings drooping, face slightly pale. All the other alphas bowed their heads.

“Don’t you _ever_ say that Dean Winchester has failed me! _Neither_ of you, _none_ of you! _I’m_ the only one who gets to decide if I’ve been failed, if I’ve been wronged. _Me_. Nobody else! Don’t blame each other or yourself for what you couldn’t control. Dean Winchester has _never_ hurt me, and I believe that he _never_ will! He has _not_ failed me. He’s - he’s one of the few people in my entire life that has never failed me and treats me with respect, like - like I actually mean something to him! I - I can’t even _begin_ to comprehend it but -- no, you _cannot_ blame Dean for this.” Castiel shook his injured wing weakly and continued on. “He’s the first person in a very long time to tell me that not only am I worthy, but I am something to be _treasured_. Don’t you _ever_ blame Dean, not _ever_! I fought back!”  
He exclaimed. 

Castiel took a deep breath, and reached up to pull at his hair, as if something was fighting against him, as if he wasn’t able to contain his own thoughts. He threw his arms out, and he laughed desperately. “I said no. And that’s everything, don’t you get it? I screamed and I fought, and when I screamed, I screamed for Dean because I _knew_ he would save me, a-and he did. There is no wrong in what he did. Don’t you _ever_ say it was ever again.” He snapped, chest heaving. 

Dean stared at Castiel in shock, and pride. His chest swelled as all the heavy weight he’d been dragged down by all day faded at his words.

Michael nodded after a beat of silence. “I apologize. To both of you. I shouldn’t have exploded. I’m terribly sorry, Castiel. But I’m overjoyed that you seem to be…”

“I don’t know what I am.” Castiel snapped.

“I think you know more than you think.” Michael replied.

The air was tense between everyone who was present for this confrontation.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll be in the car.” Castiel said shortly, bowing his head and turning to head back out the door. After a moment’s hesitation, Balthazar followed. 

“What did he mean by that?” Michael asked, furrowing his brow as he watched his brother go.

“John threatened you, I think. If anyone found out.” Dean explained, a little distantly.

“Is he dead?” Michael demanded.

“I wish it were that easy.” Dean muttered.

Benny just clapped him on the shoulder. “It never is, brother.”

Michael’s hands balled into fists again. “You should sue him, for violating your property, if nothing else.” He said the word property with a grating tone, as if the word had a hard time coming out of his mouth. 

“I don’t want to go through the hassle of a court case against my own father, especially when we’re so close to getting up North. It’s bullshit in general, but it’s bullshit we have to deal with.” Dean muttered. “I’m taking the day off. And, uh, Benny, I think Balthazar should stay over tonight. He got some bad news at the clinic.” Dean explained what had happened, and Benny pulled his hands over his face.

“ABD killed my mother.” Inias murmured, face sorrowful. “Give Balthazar my prayers.”

Michael nodded. “We all hope that he will be cured in time. You should go, Dean. Take care of my brother, and Balthazar.” 

Dean turned, heading for the door. “I can only try.”

\---

Castiel and Balthazar sat silently in the car, watching Dean speak with the others. It’s been a hard day for all of them, he observed as Jess and Dorothy walked out of the office building with solemn faces. They all exchanged a few words of parting, then Dean and Jess began to walk back to the car. 

He was finally calming from his outburst, and that let in a sense of fear, fear of being punished for speaking so out of turn like that. He knew that he wouldn’t get in trouble for it, not from Dean, not from Michael, or anyone else who was present for it, but he had experienced too many punishments for having such wrong and improper behaviour. But what he had done, sticking up for Dean, it felt as if it were the right thing to do.

_“It’s always ‘the right thing to do’ with you.”_ spoke the voice. As much as that statement was true, he found, it was also quite conflicting. ‘Right’ for him may be something that’s ‘wrong’ to someone else, as it was often the case. Castiel just blamed it on his too big of spirit in his too small of body and his evident uncontrollable instincts.

The humans got in their seats and buckled themselves in. They sat there for a few moments as if in thought before Jess spoke. “You guys feel up to getting take out?” Both angels shrugged unsurely, their stomachs not quite excited by the thought of food. Jess nodded to Dean, and they left the lot. 

Castiel reached over and held Balthazar’s hand. His problem had become miniscule in comparison to his friend’s, and he did all that he could to comfort him at this current time. He felt a little hurt that Balthazar hadn’t shared his symptoms with him, and he was disappointed in himself that he hadn’t noticed that something was wrong with him. There had been the few odd mornings, Castiel brought back into remembrance, that Balthazar seemed to be a bit lost, but Castiel had just taken that as a bad start of a bad day. 

A grumble sounded from his stomach, and Castiel looked down at it curiously. _Hmm_ , he supposed he was hungry. He glanced over to Balthazar, who was staring distantly out the window. Castiel squeezed his hand, and Balthazar squeezed his back. He wished he could just take it all away from Balthazar. He didn’t deserve this, but he supposed that Balthazar would say the same if it were he that was in his place. 

They pulled into the drive thru and Dean ordered them burgers, fries, a milkshake for Castiel, and drinks that he was not familiar with.

Jess passed Castiel the drinks to hold. “What is it?” he asked curiously. 

“Coke. Take a sip.” Dean said.

Castiel selected one and looked at it for a few seconds before taking the straw in his mouth and sipping. Castiel pulled back from the drink and wrinkled his nose, not expecting the beverage to be so… _fizzy_. The corners of Balthazar’s mouth pulled into a small grin at Castiel’s reaction.

“How do you like it?” Dean asked with a knowing smile.

“It’s like…” Castiel contemplated for a moment, “drinking molecules.” 

Dean chuckled. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

They drove on until they reached a bushed-in area, benches and pathways amongst the clearing. “I thought that maybe we could eat here.” Dean spoke before the all began to vacate the vehicle. The air out here was more fresh than the inner city air. Birds were happily chirping in the treetops above as a mild breeze flowed through Castiel’s wings. And what made it even better was the fact that only every few people were visiting the park. 

As they walked to a bench and set down their food, Castiel observed that there was a happy elderly couple feeding birds in on a bench further away, a woman walking a dog, and a few kids playing frisbee, all enjoying this nice weather they were all granted with today. 

The food was set before them and they all began to eat. Castiel drank his milkshake with delight, the taste of it pleasing to his tongue.

“How’s the food?” Dean asked.

“Had better.” Jess answered with a mouth full of food. 

“It’s good, Dean. Thank you.” Castiel said before taking another sip.

“You’re welcome.”

Castiel didn’t try to make anymore conversation past that point, and focused on listening to the life around him and enjoying his food. A lot had happened in the past twenty-four hours, and being outside like this helped get away from it a little, getting lost in the tastes and sounds. In truth, he couldn’t remember the last time he was in nature, or, as close as he could like this, or if he even ever had. He really liked being out here, and wouldn’t mind coming back sometime, even though the thought was selfish. 

The four finished eating, and leisurely made their way back to the clinic so that Jess could get back to work. 

“This place is a lot better than the one you used to work at, isn’t it?” Dean asked when they arrived at the clinic.

“It is. Alot better, actually.” Jess mused, mentally comparing the differences. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you guys later!” They waved her off and watched her go back inside the clinic. 

Dean turned back to look at them. “What do you guys want to do? If you just want to go back to the apartment that’s fine but, I don’t know, we could do something else too if you guys feel up to it.”

Balthazar and Castiel looked at each other, silent in their conversation between themselves. Balthazar shrugged, not really caring what they were to do, so that left Castiel with the decision. 

“I-If it’s okay w-with you, d-do you think we could… go back to that park?” Castiel asked nervously. “W-w-we don’t have to, I-I - I just - it was nice.” 

“Yeah, of course we can go back! We can go walk on one of the trails - if you’re up to that, I mean. We can just sit and relax somewhere if it’s too difficult right now.”

“No, I am fine. The pain medication’s potency is beginning to wear off, but I’m not in pain.” Castiel stated. _Not a lot, atleast._

Dean looked to Balthazar to see if this was alright with him, and he had no objections. “Alright, then let’s go!”

The drive back to the park didn’t take too long, and Castiel felt excited. There was a dull ache coming from his injured wing, but it wasn’t painful as long as he kept it relatively still. His rear also felt pain when they hit bumps in the road, but it wasn’t anything unbearable. A walk in the park would do them all some good.

Castiel took in a deep breath of the fresh air right when they all piled out of Dean’s car. There was a childish instinct that rose inside of him, to spread his wings and run freely in the clearing. He pushed that feeling aside though, and stayed close to Dean and Balthazar.

The angels let Dean lead the way, walking only a few steps behind him. The path lead them alongside a river that flowed peacefully. A mother duck swam with her ducklings, and Castiel thought that they looked very cute. He stopped and stared at them, wishing he could pick one up and hold it close. They were so small, so sweet. Balthazar and Dean stopped also, watching them as they swam downstream. None of them spoke; they just listened to their little quacks and the splashes created by their tiny wings. The three stayed there and watched them peacefully until the ducks went around the bend and out of sight. 

“Ready to keep going?” Dean asked. The angels nodded, and they continued on the path.

They came across more birds, squirrels, and insects the rest of the way, Castiel stopping and observing every creature. He must be becoming a nuisance, he thought, as he had stopped to look at every little thing. Dean didn’t tell him to get his ass moving, so he mustn’t have minded. Castiel was just so _fascinated_ by everything that was out here, what lived beyond the walls he had been confined and mistreated behind for so many years. Nobody told these creatures what to do or how they should be; they were allowed to live freely, living by instinct and nobody giving them a second look. He was envious. 

Just like everything, their walk came to an end as Dean’s Impala came into sight. Castiel had enjoyed it, and he was sure Balthazar had too, but he was ready to rest his weary legs and sore behind already. 

“Thank you, Dean, for bringing us back here.” Castiel said with gratitude, and Balthazar nodded as to say the same. 

Dean grinned. “Anytime. Really. If you start to feel cooped up in the apartment, just say and we can come out here. Or if you’re up to a long drive, there’s a nice one across the city.” He pointed with his thumb towards the general direction of this other park. 

Castiel’s expression softened to one of fondness. “I would like that, very much.” he dared to say. 

The ride back to the apartment was accompanied by the quiet sounds of the radio, soft rock playing quietly. Castiel looked out the window at all the vehicles passing by, everyone rushing off to some place they had to be, or wanted to be - he supposed that could be the case too. All these people, it made him almost upset with how they took free will for granted. But right now, it wasn’t time to think about that. There were other matters that were more important in this moment than the one that constantly loomed over every single angel in the god-forsaken side of the Wall. 

Castiel looked over to Balthazar and placed a hand on his lap. Balthazar looked down at it. “How are you doing?” Castiel asked in a quiet whisper in attempts to not draw Dean’s attention. 

Balthazar placed a hand on top of Castiel’s. “I’m fine.” He bit his lip. “I-I just --” Balthazar looked Castiel in the eye. “We can talk later.” 

They made it back to the apartment, finally, after having to wait through much traffic and delay. Thank God the ride was over, and curse those awful roads and that agitating ache in his ass that made the rest of the trip a borderline unbearable one. But now, he could go and sit on that cushy pillow he had before and rest. That, and talk with Balthazar. The angel seemed like he had a ton on his chest right now, and Castiel couldn’t blame his friend. He could fucking start _dying_ any damn minute. And how long had he known that he had this deadly disease? 

“Welcome back,” Mary greeted when they walked through the door. “So… how did things go?” She asked nervously, wringing her hands.

The three exchanged a knowing glance, and Castiel took it upon himself to be the one to speak up. “I am fine, as far as we know.” Mary seemed to be relieved at that. “But Balthazar...he--” 

“I have good ol’ ABD.” Balthazar cut in with a wide false grin plastered on his tired face. 

Mary’s face fell into a deep, sympathetic frown. “I’m so sorry,” Balthazar shrugged and and looked down to the ground. The stood in a saddened silence for a few moments until Mary cleared her throat. “W-well I guess I should properly introduce myself to you.” She said as she walked towards Balthazar. “I’m Mary, Dean’s mom. But… I suppose you already know that.” Mary looked down and bit her lip, looking about as hopeless and lost as they did. 

“I do, but I appreciate the introduction.” Balthazar said and looked up at her, a ghost of a smile gracing his face as he slowly extended a hand. She lightened up a little, and accepted it, shaking in gently. The corners of Balthazar’s lips lifted slightly. For her to shake his hand like this, it meant that she saw them both as an equal, and that was a very rare occurrence for the both of them; not to mention the fact that she wasn’t disgusted by the the fact that a horrid disease had taken ahold of Balthazar’s body.

“I’ll - I can - I should make you guys something to eat or I--” Mary flustered, but Dean cut her off.

“Mom,” he placed his hands on her shoulders, “you need to sit down and get some rest.” Mary seemed reluctant, but she let her son lead her to the couch and sat down, Castiel and Balthazar walking unsurely behind them.

Mary took a deep breath and put a hand to her temple. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I - that we - I-I-I can’t--” She hid her face in her hands and finally broke down, tears streaming down her face.

“Hey,” Dean kneeled in front of her and placed a hand on her knee, “you - this, none if this is your fault, Mom, you know that, right?” 

“B-but it, a-and I-I--” Her words were barely understandable through the sobbing and tears. 

Castiel was flooded with feelings of sympathy and care as he watched Dean’s mother cry about something she had no fault in. His heart tugged at the sight, and without any thought whatsoever, he placed himself beside Mary on the couch and hugged her. Mary tensed a bit in surprise, but soon hugged him back, despite the difficult angle that caused it to be slightly awkward. She leaned her head on his shoulder, muttering apologies as her tears soaked Castiel’s shirt. He placed his head atop of hers, and ran a hand through Mary’s tangled blonde hair, touched by her deep concern for something - some _one_ \- like him. He supposed she could be crying more for her own loss, as he understood that it was one that left a gaping wound. Even if she was grieving for her own sake, the need to comfort was too strong to care. 

He beckoned Balthazar over by a small gesture of his finger and began to tell a tale, a tale that both Castiel and Balthazar had been told before they knew how to walk.

“Since the very day God created the earth, the responsibility of her care was passed down to the angels. For many years, they had done just this, tending and nurturing her, lending a helping hand to her inhabitants from time to time. As time passed, some angels sought for more power, more control. This brought out an all-out war, the fight involving every last angel that dwelt in Heaven. God saw this, and thought it disheartening. In means to resolve the conflict and to grant the angels anew, He cast them out of Heaven and they plummeted to Earth, being giving a gracious second chance to renew their responsibilities as Earth’s caretakers.”

Mary’s crying quieted down some, still holding onto Castiel as he told the story. 

“For three days, the angels fell.

“On the first day, some of the angels landed upon the mountains, are rose up, strong and tall like the mountains they fell to. 

“On the second day, some of the angels fell in fields of wildflowers and wheat, rising level headed and prosperous.

“On the third day, the remaining angels crashed into the ocean, their wings becoming too wounded and torn to fly, as their fall was the longest and hardest. 

“Those who rose on the first day watched as their brethren fell. With His voice almighty, God’s last command to them was this: “Care for one another, and all the other creatures of the earth.” The first fallen, now risen, spread their wings and took flight, soaring above the clouds to save their fallen kin and reached out to save their brothers and sisters from their toils fighting against the raging waves, exhaustion almost upon them as they fought with what little strength they had, despite being almost ripped to pieces.”

Mary and Dean were both listening with great interest, enthralled by the tale. 

”The first risen returned to the land, carrying the third fallen safely in their arms. The second risen gathered plants and herbs to heal and care for their injured brethren. As one of the second tended to the one of the third’s many wounds with gentle hands, the first bond had been created, and the third’s wounds healed.

“For three more days and three more nights, the wounds of the third were tended to. Some of the firsts created bonds with one another, their strength grown strong, and flew to great heights in search of food, as hunger was now something they experienced. Some of the second risen took each other’s tired hands, a bond between them blossomed, and their exhaustion diminished. Some of the thirds reached out to each other in their agony, and the bonds the created staved off each other’s pain.”

At this point of the story, Mary had sat up, more or less. Both her and Dean had curious expressions upon their faces as if they had many questions they wanted answered, but they kept quiet and listened on, this time, it was Balthazar who decided to continue on with the tale.

“On the seventh day,” Balthazar started, “most of the angels had created bonds with one another, wounds becoming healed and strength replenishing, but there were still those who had not bonded, still wounded with little strength. All the resources they had gathered and found around the area had depleted, so the strongest carried the weakest, and they set off in search of the humans. 

“Their wandering lasted until nightfall, and just as all hope seemed lost, the weakest of them all, a small, third fallen girl named Grace, whose wings were ripped right off in the fall, looked up at the star-lit sky and saw a star that shone brighter than any other. She pointed it out to the other angels, and taking it as a sign from God, they followed it. The longer the followed the star, the brighter it shone, lighting a path to lead them, until it shone so bright that the night became day. It gave them a sense of warmth and hope. 

“The star led them into a valley, containing a small village of humans. Right as they stepped upon the fertile land of the valley, the light of the star flared a light strong enough to blind. The angels all turned their heads away with a sense of reverence, then all of a sudden, the star vanished from the sky. Moments after the night returned, a farmer came out of his home with a torch in hand. The man’s face lit up with awe at the sight of the angels, and eagerly led them into the village. The villagers began to pour out of their homes, and rejoiced and welcomed the angels with open arms. 

“This village was the angels’ new home, and all those who were not yet bonded had found someone, either angel of human. New homes were built for the angels, and those who bonded with humans resided with them. 

“Angels were given a second chance, and it was good. But like all things, it eventually comes to an end.” Balthazar ended the story with an unreadable expression, not looking at anything in particular.

After a few moments of silence, Mary spoke. “I always knew angels had fallen but, I didn’t know the story.” 

“So first, second, and third; is that supposed to be alpha, beta, and omega?” Dean asked.

“That’s one of the names they came to be called later on, yes.” Castiel answered. 

“And ‘bonding’, is that something specific?” Mary inquired. 

Balthazar shifted uncomfortably, and both he and Castiel exchanged a look. “I-It’s uh, well--” Balthazar started, “when two angels love each other very much--” 

“Okay, okay, I think we get it.” Dean cut in, hands raised. 

Castiel felt the need to clarify. He shook his head, “A bond it - it’s something stronger than love, something deeper, something that’s not comprehensible, but felt.” He tried to find other words to say, other ways to describe it without giving away too much so it wouldn’t lead to unwanted questions. But, he could not. 

Mary and Dean seemed to understand, well, to some extent. They would never truly be able to experience what a bond was like, and Castiel almost felt grateful for that. When that bond he had shared broke, the damage wasn’t only inflicted on the heart and soul, but it was also felt physically, and with all that happened to him in that short amount of time, well, let’s just leave it at ‘it was not good’. 

Mary took a deep breath and smiled lightly. “Thank you, all of you. I…” She still looked a bit lost, but there was improvement from how she was minutes before. “I should probably make supper now.” 

She went to get up, but Dean stopped her. “No, you sit here, Mom. I’ll take care of it.” It took Dean a bit of convincing to do, but Mary sat back down and blew her nose. 

\---

Dinner that night was nothing noteworthy or eventful, standing a stark contrast from the happenings of the hours before. If you were to ask Castiel about what they ate or what they spoke about, he wouldn’t remember. 

As the day drew to a close, the pain was becoming too much for Castiel to handle without showing how much it truly hurt. Pain pulsated from his injured wings, and his backside throbbed. His forehead wrinkled and he bit his bottom lip, attempting to ignore it all with great difficulty. 

“You haven’t taken anything for pain since this morning, haven’t you, Cas?” Castiel looked up at Jess as she asked this. He nodded in reply. “You should have said something sooner.” Jess said as she went to retrieve the medication, along with the other prescribed to him earlier.

“She’s right,” Balthazar agreed, “you don’t have to make yourself suffer.”

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered. 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Balthazar placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Jess brought over a glass of water and the medication, which Castiel took eagerly. He hated the effects they had on him within the first couple hours, but he supposed that it was well worth it if he wouldn’t feel this intense pain. 

Taking a deep breath, he let the drugs slowly start to take effect. 

“Before you get all loopy, how about we get ready for bed?” Balthazar suggested, “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” Castiel nodded in agreement, and the both of them headed for the bathroom.

“Goodnight, boys.” Mary called from the other room. “Sleep well.” 

“Thank you.” Balthazar gave her a small smile. “You too.”

“Night,” Castiel bade Mary just as the two were about to step into the bathroom. The angels washed up, brushed their teeth, and did whatever else they needed to do before retiring to Castiel’s bedroom. 

Balthazar had to aid Castiel as he changed out of his clothes, as the effects were already taking place. 

“Castiel you have to - you got to try and stay still so that I don’t hurt you.” he struggled as he attempted to help a squirming Castiel out of his shirt.

“I’ll try, but I cannot make any promises.” Castiel shrugged.

Balthazar sighed. “Well, it’s your pain.” 

“My wings are numb.” Castiel said with a chuckle. 

“As that may be true, you still have to keep still.”

“Fine.” Castiel quit his fidgets and allowed Balthazar to help him out of his shirt and into another. Even through his medicated haze, he understood he could cause further damage to his wings if he were too careless. After all, this wasn’t the first time delicate feathers had been plucked, though this was the first when he had such strong medicine for the pain. 

After Balthazar changed for the night, he helped Castiel lie down comfortably on his stomach, as it is the most common and comfortable position for an angel to sleep. “How’re you feeling?” Balthazar asked with care.

Castiel looked up to him from his pillow. “I’m nothing worth worrying about.” Balthazar was about to say something as he lied down beside him, but Castiel spoke before he could. “But how about you? How are you doing?” 

Balthazar took a deep breath. “Ahh, well…” He cleared his throat. “I - I-I-I don’t know.” He took another deep breath as his eyes began to water, no need to hold up his cheery facade any longer. “Cassie I - I don’t want to go. Not like this, at least, not like this. I-I’m…” Tears fell freely down Balthazar’s cheek and onto his pillow, “I’m absolutely _repulsive_. Heh, I guess it’s only fitting for a cheap whore like me to go in such a way.” he said in attempts to joke. 

Castiel did not find this funny, as it was not. “Bal, you’re not going to die. Jess gave you the medicine, and then until we - when they - when we get out of this place, you can get help. You will live, Balthazar; don’t - don’t give up on me.” He placed a hand on Balthazar’s cheek, brushing away the tears, even though he realized he was shedding his own. 

“I-I’m not giving up on you, I’m just stating the facts. Nobody will mourn the loss of some low-grade cum slut.” 

“I would be devastated, and I’m sure the humans would be too. Also, it’s not like that anymore. You said so yourself, to me, only just this morning. You’re not - Balthazar…” Castiel trailed off and moved himself closer to Balthazar, holding him close. “You’re so, _so_ much more than that.” He blessed the top of Balthazar’s head with a gentle kiss.

Balthazar sniffled. “But you’re still saying that I am a low-grade cum slut?” 

“No. You’re too classy to be considered low-grade.” Castiel said endearingly. “But in the end, you’re still a cum slut.”

Balthazar huffed. “Look at that, Castiel’s making light of a serious situation. How I never thought I’d live to see the day. I’m finally rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He looked up at Castiel with slight amusement. 

“I think the medication’s to blame.” 

“Sure, blame it on the medicine. In the end, we both know you are they way you are because of me.” 

“Then I guess that makes me nothing more than a cheap whore then, huh?” Castiel said with smugness. 

“Now you’re just being mean.” Balthazar scowled, and Castiel chuckled as he won at Balthazar’s constant game. He supposed he probably shouldn’t have went the more comedic way with their conversation and took it as serious as it truly was, but in this state he couldn’t really find it in him. And truth be told, his friend didn’t seem to mind. 

“Ah, look at me, being a huge cry baby when you’re the one I should be comforting.” Balthazar sniffled again and held Castiel closer.

“What? No. I’ll heal, but you--” 

“I’m going to die.” Balthazar stated.

“I was going to say ‘worse off than me’. Listen, you’re _not_ going to die. I won’t allow it. Neither will the others.” 

“It’s not exactly something that can be so easily controlled, Cas. It’s called the Atomic Bomb for a reason! I-It just happens! And when it does, i-it’s just down right _horrible_ ” 

“Listen to me.” Castiel said firmly, attitude changing. Balthazar pulled away just enough so he can look to Castiel’s face. “You are _not_ going to die. You’re going to be fine. We just have to wait until we… we… go North. I-I don’t know when that’ll be, but you will be fine. And don’t go a-and get any silly ideas, Balthazar, because you promised me - you said that you weren’t going to leave me.” He was hoping that Balthazar’s thoughts weren’t going to where he feared. 

He didn’t give Castiel a reply. He only snuggled closer to Castiel, burying his head in his chest. “I don’t have a choice.” Balthazar voice came out in a barely audible whisper, muffled from the now tear-soaked shirt clinging to Castiel’s chest. His heart dropped as he heard those words fall from his friend’s lips. Castiel drew him as close as he possibly could, holding him tightly and never letting go. 

“She knew.” Balthazar said suddenly.

“Who knew what?” Castiel asked, confused as he hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about.

“That Cecily lady. She claimed to be from the North, and she knew, Cassie, that I am still bonded with Her, amongst other things.” 

“Oh,” was all Castiel could find to say.

“W-w-why - why is She still holding onto me? It’s b-been so long, too long, and I - I still feel Her. All I ever do is make Her hurt. Why hasn’t She just - forgotten about me already?” 

“For the same reasons that you haven’t.” Balthazar seemed to still at this, contemplating. “You still love Her, and She still loves you.” Castiel said carefully. Talking about Her was just as taboo as speaking of Meg, and Castiel found it odd that Balthazar was bringing it up, but also supposed that it made sense with the given circumstances. “How is She?” 

“She - She’s worried. Concerned; scared, angry. I wish I - I wish I could just take it all away from Her. I’ve gotten good at hiding my emotions from Her but, t-today they slipped. She doesn’t deserve this.” _”She doesn’t deserve me,”_ Castiel could hear between those words. “But I… even after all this time I - I can’t let go. It’s just that I - She - it’s not fair Cassie! I didn’t want this, I didn’t, I didn’t!” 

“I know. I know.” _None of us did._


	12. Kids That I Once Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters and Company make a decision that will shape the course of their future, and a misunderstanding brews a storm in the heart of our favorite angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see the closing window?  
> Did you hear the slamming door?  
> They moved forward, my heart died  
> They moved forward, my heart died
> 
> Please, please tell me what they look like  
> Did they seem afraid of you?  
> They were kids that I once knew  
> They were kids that I once knew
> 
> I could say it, but you won't believe me  
> You say you do, but you don't deceive me  
> It's hard to know they're out there  
> It's hard to know that you still care  
> I could say it but you wont believe me  
> You say you do but you don't deceive me  
> Dead hearts are everywhere  
> Dead hearts are everywhere
> 
> \- 'Dead Hearts' by Stars

A few days had passed since the incident with John. Castiel’s body was slowly knitting itself back together, key word being ‘slowly’. He was no longer taking such strong doses of medication, but he was still taking medication nonetheless. His body still hurt, and it would for some time, but the unbearableness of it all had depleted. With the aid of painkillers and not moving around too much, the pain was manageable and nothing that Castiel couldn’t handle. 

Both he and Balthazar were fast asleep, nothing but his breathing and Balthazar’s light snoring to be heard in the dark of the night. The past few days had been spent trying to fix the mess John had left in his wake, leaving everyone exhausted and ill-spirited. Sleep was something that they all needed, but it wasn’t something they could get with ease, not with all this stress. But if you grant sleep your complete submission, it will come.

Accompanied by sleep were dreams, as was the price for sleep. Sometimes they were pleasant, but that was more than often a rare blessing. 

A few minutes after Castiel shut his eyes and fell to sleep, the world of dreams awoken, opening doors to memories abandoned and pushed away.

This night, his dreams brought him back to the days he spent running from the law with Meg and the others. 

...

“It’s getting dark, Meg. Can’t we just stop here for the night? My legs are _killing_ me.” a girl with straight black hair and small brown eyes spoke with a whine. The group of six had been wandering through fields and trees all day, running from the many dangers the city they had left held. 

The group slowed, looking back at the girl that had just spoken, then slowly to Meg. 

Meg turned to the girl looking rather unimpressed. “Since you’ve just joined our little gang here Princess, I’m going to be easy on you. This isn’t some backpacking trip we’re doing here, we’re not doing this to sightsee and rest whenever we fucking want.” She sighed. “Do you even know where the hell we are, Tasha?” 

Tasha, the girl who had joined them and their cause just yesterday, spoke. “... In the middle of nowhere?”

“You’re not entirely wrong, but by that I take it you don’t know the area.” Meg examined her nails in a bored fashion.

“N-no,” 

“Well, I do. And trust me when I say that this isn’t a safe place to just stop and rest. Got it?” 

“Alright alright, I got it.” Tasha said, raising her arms in surrender. 

“Beginning to wonder if you’re just using our crusade just as an easy getaway from your problems,” Meg muttered and returned to leading them deeper into the wilderness. 

“What? No!” Tasha brushed past Castiel, startling him a bit, and stormed in front of Meg. “How could you even _say_ that? You know as well as I do that what they’re doing to those poor angels is wrong! I’m just trying to do what I can to help them.” 

Since she had only been with them for about a day, Tasha didn’t know yet that Castiel himself was an angel, and they all planned to keep that a secret until they knew for sure that she could be trusted. He was thankful that his wings were on the small side of the scale; they were easy to hide and were surprisingly not in a lot of pain from being bound for over a day. He hoped he’d get the chance to let them free and stretch them soon.

Meg gave Tasha a threatening stare and waited for her to back off before saying anything. “In case you haven’t noticed already, we don’t trust you. Yet.” Leaving it at that, she turned away and continued on. Tasha turned away and look at the rest of the group, them all looking at her with the mistrust Meg had spoke about. She sighed, and followed near the end of the pack. 

Castiel stared at the new girl with uncertainty for a few moments before walking up ahead and walking alongside Meg. “I assume you know of a place for us to retire?” He had full trust in Meg’s judgement, but with her, he was allowed to ask anything. 

Meg smirked. “Yeah. There’s a cabin not too much further up ahead that belongs to my uncle. He never uses it though and it just sits there, so we should be fine.” They walked on a little further. “He’s too busy to get out here in the summer, let alone at this time of year. He won’t be there.” 

“He better not,” Castiel muttered under his breath, mostly to himself as a chill ran down his spine. Meg’s uncle worked for her father, seeing as they were brothers and had a very close relationship. Meg herself wasn’t close to either of them, for reasons quite clear to him; both were very strong slavery supporters, to say at the very least. Castiel turned and looked into the forest, not wanting to think of the matter any longer. 

“Try not to worry too much, Clarence. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Meg gave him a smile and he felt his face grow warm. 

He brought a hand up to the collar of his turtleneck and pulled at it a bit as he blushed. “Thank you, Meg. You’re always so nice to me.” 

Meg turned to him, slight surprise playing on her pretty features. “Only giving you what you deserve, sunshine.” She looked to the forest floor as her cheeks turned a mild pink. Castiel shoved at Meg playfully, flashing her a small smile when she shoved him back. One might have said that Castiel had even giggled a little. 

Roughly half-an-hour later, they reached the cabin that Meg had spoke about. It was in a very secluded area, and looked to be left abandoned for quite some time. From what Castiel could tell from first glance, it looked like a perfect place to rest. 

“We’re here.” Meg announced. 

“Looks cozy.” Zack stated. 

“We’ll stay here for the night and continue heading north in the morning.” Meg informed the group. Everyone nodded in acknowledgement and followed her up the stairs, each step a noisy creak. Meg lifted a few boxes from the side of the top stair a retrieved a key. 

“Is this one of your father’s properties, Meg?” asked a girl named Lilly, “You of all people should know that’s really unsmart.” 

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure my uncle has long forgotten about this place, and it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere. As long as we don’t light any fires and leave in the morning, we’ll be fine. It’s just for the night.” Meg unlocked the door and walked inside, everyone else a few steps behind her. The windows were covered with heavy drapes, so any of the remaining daylight the evening held was blocked out, and Castiel could barely see. Him and the others took out their electric lanterns and turned them on. The signs of neglect were obvious, as cobwebs and dust was gathered everywhere, and a dingy scent lingered in the air; the scent seeming almost familiar to Castiel.

“This place is kinda… gloomy.” Tasha said.

“Stayed in worse.” Zack told her. “Honestly, this isn’t bad at all.”

“Just be happy you have a roof over your head, okay Princess?” Meg snapped. 

“Okay, fine, got it, I’ll keep quiet.” Tasha rolled her eyes.

“Good. Nobody wants to hear your whining.” Meg huffed and placed her bag down on the couch without care, dust taking flight from its home within the ugly patterned cushions.

Castiel quietly put his bag beside Meg’s and went to one of the windows. “Is it alright if I open the drapes, Meg?” he asked her almost timidly. Without seeing the outside, he felt claustrophobic. It was stupid, he knew that, and opening it would probably be unwise and--

Meg turned to him and thought for a moment. “If you want to open them a bit, sure. Just make sure you close it again in the morning.” Castiel gave her a small grin and opened them enough until he was satisfied. 

A few of the others set their sleeping mats on the ground and got food out of their packs. They formed a circle, and placed their lanterns in the middle. Castiel took his seat between Meg and Zack, eating what little they had only when the others began. He stayed silent as they all talked and joked around with one another. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Castiel looked up when he realised Tasha was addressing him. He exchanged looks with everyone else and shifted where he sat, uncomfortable with the attention he was getting. “I - I don’t even think I caught your name.” She admitted. 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak. “Ca-- Clarence.” He glanced up at Meg and ducked his head. His name was a dead giveaway to what he was, and the nickname Meg had giving him really grew on him.

“Yeah, he ain’t known for talking.” Lilly imputed. 

“Then what is it that he is known for?” Tasha inquired. “I know I just joined your group but, I honestly don’t know anything about you.”

Castiel gulped beneath his turtleneck and bit his lip. His mind went straight to his cruel former master, to the brothel he was first purchased to. A small shiver ran through his body, and his hand tightened into small, sweaty fists. He couldn’t answer this question; he sure hoped someone else would. Was there even an answer for it? For waking everyone up at night with his screams, yeah, that was probably the answer.

“He’s best known by his sweet personality.” Meg answered for him. Castiel turned to her, surprised by her answer. “He’s kinda dorky and doesn’t talk much but, deep down, he’s a really great guy.” 

Castiel’s face burned red. “M-Meg,” He ducked his head again and fought to keep his bound wings from fluttering, but wings more than often had a mind of their own. He focused on the pain from his wings rather than the butterflies flying within his chest. 

“Ha,” Tasha let out a small laugh and grinned, “so, how long have you two been dating?” 

Castiel almost choked on his own saliva and Meg’s eyes widened a bit. “We - we’re not _dating_.” she stated. The others chuckled.

“Well, you definitely fooled me.” Tasha grumbled before eating what was left of her food and looked at Castiel with a certain curiosity that left the angel feeling uncomfortable, but that could have also been from the question just asked.

Soon, they were finished eating and began to get ready for sleep. The sun had set, the moon had risen. They had much more ground to cover tomorrow and they were all exhausted from the extreme lengths they had walked that day. 

“If you need to take a piss, you walk through that door over there. Be thankful this place has a built-in outhouse.” Meg directed.

“Sweet,” said one of the other boys, Luke. He walked to the door and attempted to open it. “Huh, it’s locked.” 

Meg looked over to him. “No no no no, that’s the wrong door. The one _beside_ it.” 

“Oh,” Luke tried the other door and sure enough, there sat a toilet. “What’s throw the other door?” he asked. 

“The basement.” Meg said with hesitance. “It’s - yeah. We’re only going to use the bathroom and this room. No exploring! We can’t leave much evidence that we’ve been here if we want to be successful with going North.” 

_North,_ Castiel thought blissfully. He couldn’t wait! He could walk through the streets with his wings free, hell, _he_ would be free! It was risky journey, very risky, he knew, but Meg was so smart; it would work. And then maybe, hopefully, he and Meg could live together, if he would be so bold to consider the possibility. He really liked Meg, he really did. Never had he met someone like her, never had his heart felt the way it did when he saw her or heard her speak. Being with her made him forget, and she made him happy. 

“Whatcha got going around that head of yours, Clarence?” Meg poked at his temple gently. 

“O-oh, n-nothing,” Castiel said in almost a whisper. 

Meg grinned as if she knew his previous thoughts and lied down on her mat. “Goodnight.” 

“Night,” Castiel lied down on his stomach and looked up at the sky through the window. Looking past the silhouette of trees, he could see the night sky, stars peeking through the trees. With a small smile and the hope of better days, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

It was a heavy ache in his wings that woke him up in the middle of the night. His eyes flew open and he grit his teeth to stop himself from shouting out in pain. Somehow, sometime during his sleep he had rolled onto his back, and now his wings were screaming at him. He stumbled up from his makeshift bed and fled to the other room. He had to free his wings; they hurt too much. 

Castiel quickly ripped his sweater and t-shirt off with a little bit of a struggle and threw them on the dust covered floor. His hands worked free the knots of the strips of fabric wrapped around his chest and let them fall beside his shirts. The next step, he did more slowly. He unfolded his wings with care in attempts to lessen the pain, and sighed in relief as he shook them out. Maybe if he had proper binders for them, ones used for long periods of time, they wouldn’t hurt so much. Then again, they wouldn’t be bound the way he needed them to be, and to obtain something like that, they’d have to purchase them, and he highly doubted that Meg would want to go into one of the angel care stores and that they would even sell something to someone her age. 

The cool, damp air of the cabin was beginning to cause Castiel discomfort, as he now had nothing on to cover the upper half of his small body. His wings would soon have to return to being tucked away uncomfortably again, that he knew, but he decided that that could wait a little bit longer. Everyone was asleep anyway, and it was only Tasha he had to be wary of... 

Castiel was in the middle of stretching and flexing his wings a bit more until he was interrupted by a gasp. His eyes shot up in panic, breath hitching when standing only a few feet away from him was Tasha. She stared at him in surprise, taking in the sight of him: wings, scars, collar, all exposed for her to see. Castiel quickly hid his chest with his arms as his balled fists attempted to hide the cursed collar around his neck. 

Something changed in Tasha’s eyes, and she started to walk towards the frightened angel. With each step she took forward, Castiel took one back, until he was met by the wall and couldn’t back away any further. 

“I _knew_ something was off with you, Clarence,” Castiel cringed and turned his head away as she spoke quietly to his face, “if that’s even your name. I highly doubt it is.” Castiel dared to look at her again, uncomfortable by her closeness, but wanted to figure what was reeling through her mind. By the look in her eye, it was something to dread. The thought of calling to the others passed through his mind, and he glanced over to the room where his friends slept, until a quick flash of metal caught his eye. Tasha held a knife to his throat and another hand on his bony shoulder, and he couldn’t stop the tiny whimper that made it passed his lips. “Don’t even think about it, angel.” 

Tasha swiped her lips with her tongue and she continued to evaluate Castiel. “Let me guess. You thought you could run away and escape North, just so you could be free to run rampant; it’s pathetic.” She pressed the blade against Castiel’s skin. He didn’t dare breathe. “Did you _really_ think you’d be able to do that?” Tears pricked Castiel’s fear lit eyes, silently pleading for her to let him go. She smiled coldly, withdrew the knife quickly and grabbed ahold of Castiel by the o-ring on his collar. Tasha proceeded to tug him from the room and into another; a bedroom. As she closed the door to the room, he was barely able to make the shape of the girl, not certain where exactly she was.

“W-what are you going to do with me?” Castiel asked into the darkness, voice wavering. 

“Well,” Tasha started, quietly taking steps towards Castiel, “my orders are to take you to the closest A.C.A. facility for you to receive your punishment. God knows what they’ll do to you, little wench.” 

“B-but,” Castiel dared to reply, “we’re nowhere near one. W-we’re in the m-middle of nowhere.” His mind was reeling, trying to come up with something to reason with her. He’s come this far, this couldn’t be it. He would _not_ go back. Not now, not ever. He deserved to be free. _I do._

Tasha pushed him until he fell back onto the bed, wincing at the force of him falling upon his tender wings. She quickly got on the bed and straddled him, pinning his small frame underneath her weight. 

Castiel began to panic. “G-g-get off of me.” He attempted to push her off. “I-I-I s-said, g-get off!”

Tasha grabbed Castiel’s wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand and covered his mouth with another. “Shh shh shh, no need to worry.” _Yeah right._ “I’m not going to do anything that you can’t handle.” Castiel made a sound beneath her hand. “I’ve always wanted to know what an omega’s wings felt like, “ She stated before removing both hands from Castiel, only to apply one to each wing and began to stroke them, combing through his light golden feathers gently. A whine caught itself in Castiel throat, his body becoming lax. “You like this, don’t you?” _No_ , no he did not. “So soft,” Castiel quivered beneath her as she stroked his wing bone. “No wonder everyone wants them.” Castiel shut his eyes and hoped for the touches to stop. He hated the effect it took on him, how _good_ it felt. All he could do was shut his eyes a hopelessly pray. “Maybe… I should take a feather for myself.” 

His eyes widened. “No,” He barely made out. 

Just then, he heard footsteps coming towards the room. The door swung open. Castiel squinted at the bright light of a lantern. 

“T-Tasha what--” it was Zack, but he stopped talking and all of a sudden, Tasha was off of Castiel. Getting control back to his body, he sat up quickly and found that Meg had tackled her to the ground.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?!” Meg screamed at the girl. 

“U-uh--” Tasha barely made out a word before her face was being bashed by Meg’s angry fist. 

“You’re absolutely _disgusting_!” Meg punched her a few more times. 

“Meg,” Castiel grabbed her wrist before she could hit the traitorous girl again. “Stop.”

Meg looked up at him, anger turned to confusion. “But, why? She was touching you and--” Meg turned her face back down to the bloodied face below her. Tasha’s face was a complete mess, with her nose broken and eye already beginning to swell shut, not to mention all the blood. “Oh my god.” Tasha moaned and coughed the blood pooling in her mouth out onto the floor. 

The others had all woken up by the commotion, silent and wide-eyed. Someone had given Castiel a blanket at one point so he could cover up and feel what little comfort from it that he could. 

“What now?” Zack asked softly, kneeling beside Meg. 

“Y’ won’ mak’e i’,” Tasha slurred, “Y’ll ge’ caugh’.” She choked on a laugh. “Y’ll all die.” 

Meg let out a ragged breath. “There’s no way we’re taking her with us.” 

“Then what are we going to do with her?” asked Zack. 

She hesitated. “We’re gonna have to kill her.” Everyone began to speak at once. From what Castiel could pick up, most of them were just wondering if they could do it. After all, they were only children, trying to fight for what was right.

“She’s right.” Castiel spoke up, and everyone went silence. Meg looked up at him in surprise. “She has to go. We have no other choice. She’s a danger to all of us.” He looked into each of his friends eyes with certainty and strength, even when stray tears fell down his cheeks. This - this is what they had to do. If they truly wanted to go North, this needed to happen. He didn’t like it - no, he _hated_ it, but what else were they to do?

Castiel went back to the bed and found Tasha’s knife still lying there. He picked it up, and examined it a moment before handing it to Meg. “It’s your call.” he told her. 

Meg took the knife, and looked into Tash’s dark eyes - well, eye, as her other was practically already swollen shut. “We let you join us out of good faith and help us in our cause, and _this_ is how you repay us?” Meg shook her head in loathfulness. “And after all you said… why?”

“Y’ do wha’ y’ ‘ave to for fam’ly,” Tasha said, not without stumbling a bit on the slurred words. That wasn’t exactly the response they had expected, not that they knew what to expect. “Do i’. Kill me.” 

“You betrayed us and you - you _molested_ him. We can’t - you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from and I - have to do this.” Meg explained, moreover for herself, Castiel assumed. “I have to do this.” Everyone might not have agreed, as some winced and turned away, but they all knew that they really had no other choice. Meg gripped the knife and plunged it straight into Tasha chest, roughly, if not, in the heart. The room went silent, all except for the strangled sounds of Tasha’s final breaths, until, there was nothing. Her body lay lifeless and bloody against the wooden floor. 

“O-Oh god,” Meg exclaimed and quickly retracted her hand from the hilt of the knife. “I - I _killed_ her. I _killed_ someone. I--” Castiel kneeled beside Meg and pulled her into a hug, blanket falling off his shoulders as he did so. She cried into the crook of his neck, despite the discomfort his collar must have caused for her face. She showed no signs of moving though.

“You did what you had to. I don’t know if I could have done it.” Castiel said in attempts to comfort his best friend, running his fingers through his knotted brown hair. Meg quieted down a bit, but still held tight to Castiel. With glossy eyes, he slowly brought his wings forward and shielded her body with them in means of console and to bring her as close to him as she could possibly be. Meg stilled at the touch of his downy feathers. It wasn’t until that moment that Castiel realised that there was a deeper meaning to the seemingly subtle action, one that felt so natural.

Sheltering another with one’s wings was an act of love, something only to be shared with someone held most dear in one’s heart. Meg knew of this, of course she did. She knew everything. The others most likely didn’t, but Meg did. His wings fluttered out of slight embarrassment, but he didn’t remove them. 

She cleared her throat and sniffled, pulling away slightly to rub the tears from her eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered quietly. Castiel nodded and return his wings comfortable behind himself. Meg turned back to face the problem at hand and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“What’re we gonna do with her?” asked Zack. 

Meg paused, then grimaced as she said, “We’ll put her in the basement.” 

“Won’t… someone find her? Eventually?” Luke asked. 

“Eventually,” Meg rose to her feet, “but hopefully by then, we’ll be gone from the god forsaken shit hole. Zack, help me with this.” Meg knelt down beside the body and began to lift it. Zack frowned as he helped Meg drag Tasha’s body towards the basement, only stopping when Meg went to pick the lock. Why was the basement locked? _I don’t think I want to know._

“Everyone, stay here. We’ll be back shortly.” Meg addressed and set down the creaky, dark steps with Zack. 

Castiel peered down at them curiously, wondering what was down there that Meg was so intent on everyone (excluding Zack) to be staying upstairs, despite his better judgement and assumption on the matter. The scent rising from the basement was enough to tell Castiel that he was better off not knowing, and he hoped that they would be alright down there. It smelled of rot, blood, and some chemical used to try to chase it all away, the scent strong enough to Castiel’s nose that made fear pulse through his veins. 

He stepped back, and found Lily standing right beside him. “Here,” she extended something out to him, “I thought you might want your shirt back.”

“Oh,” Castiel hugged his chest and the sudden reminder that he was still partially unclothed. He was very insecure of his body, as it was tarnished and made hideous by the scars littered across his skin, not to mention after all the lewd comments men had voiced towards him. Castiel gratefully took the shirt from Lilly and pulled it over his head. As this shirt was only worn under his sweater, they thought it alright to make wing holes in it; a small thing that brought him much joy. 

“How are you doing?” Lilly asked.

“I’m alright.” Castiel replied. _I’m used to it._

A few of the others had cleaned up the bit of blood that had made its way on the floor the best they could, and waited for Meg and Zack to return from the basement, which didn’t take very long at all. The two approached the waiting group, Meg’s expression dark and closed off, Zack’s disturbed and distant. 

“Wh-what is it?” asked Lilly. 

Meg shook her head. “It’s taken care of.” She took a quick sweep of the room with her eyes. “There’s about two hours before sunup, and I don’t think any of us will be able to get anymore sleep. Let’s pack up and head out.”

…

It was now morning, and Castiel was leisurely waking up, the remembrance of the dream vanishing the moment he woke. It left him with a sour taste, and though he felt as if this dream was something he should have remembered, he thought it probably best not to pick at it and he decided to ignore it completely from that moment forward.

There was no urgency to wake up, no places to be, no one to see. It was just him and Balthazar, sleeping together in tangled limbs and wings. Dean had told him to rest for as long as he wished, since Dean was going to be off running around and doing some sort of research. _Research for what?_ Castiel didn’t know; Dean didn’t tell him; he only winked at Castiel and told him it was a surprise, one that he would like. That made Castiel anxious, even though he knew he shouldn’t worry. He wanted to press into it more and find out what it was, as he didn’t like surprises, but he did not. It wasn’t his place. He hoped that Dean would find what he was looking for. 

As Castiel rolled onto his side, he decided that he loved lazy mornings. There was no need to wake up, no one who needed him, so to speak. If he had it his way, he’d probably sleep all day. God knew he needed it. 

At the sound of Balthazar stirring in his sleep, Castiel reluctantly peeped and eye open and looked to his friend. Balthazar groaned and rubbed his eyes before opening them slowly. 

“Good morning.” Castiel greeted him with a small smile. 

Balthazar’s eyes shot open, looking at him with a hint of wariness. “Good - good morning to you too.” Slowly, he withdrew from the closeness he had with Castiel and shifted back until he was at a seemingly comfortable distance.

Castiel looked at him oddly, squinting his eyes in confusion at his friend. Balthazar would normally say someone about his morning greeting. He never says ‘good’ before any greeting, since nothing was exactly ‘good’. It was something that Balthazar would point out in an instant, poke fun and Castiel for and form some sort of joke out if it. Why wasn’t --

Then like a bolt of lightning, it struck him. Castiel’s heart plummeted. 

“W-what? What’s wrong?” Balthazar asked, wide eyed. Tears welled in Castiel’s eyes. “What is it?” Balthazar knew something was wrong, the distress was evident in his voice. “Tell me! Wh-w-what’s - what’s wrong?” 

“I’m so sorry,” Castiel pulled his friend into a tight hug, which surprised the other angel a bit. “I’m so sorry.” he said once more through a shuddering sob. It hurt him so much to see his best friend like this, to finally know the cruel truth behind this odd behaviour. 

“Am I - n-no…” Balthazar choked out, hugging Castiel back. “I-I - _why_?” He sounded so broken, so devastated as he slowly put all the broken pieces together in his muddled mind. Castiel couldn’t even imagine. 

He continued to hold Balthazar close in attempts to comfort him the best way he knew how. Balthazar eventually let go of his hold on Castiel and slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Castiel looked at him for a moment before he joined him. 

“It’s true then. I am dying.” Balthazar spoke softly. Castiel first instinct in response was to give him a comforting brush from his wing, but as it was damaged, he decided the next best thing was to place a hand over Balthazar’s. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.” He rubbed at his face a bit and got up from the bed. 

“Bal,”

“No Cassie it’s - I’m fine.” He turned around and flashed Castiel a smile. “Now let’s get dressed and see what we can do about breakfast!” Castiel wasn’t convinced whatsoever, but he appeased Balthazar and left the matter be, and changed into clothes for the day after the made the bed. 

As soon as they saw that all was in order, well, as much as it could be, then stepped out of Castiel’s room and found Mary sitting on the couch, casually reading a book. 

“Oh, good morning boys.” Mary said as she marked the page she was on and placed the book down on the coffee table. “Would you like me to make you something to eat?” she asked eagerly, getting up off the couch.

“No, you don’t have--” 

“I’ll go find something.” Mary whizzed past them and began rummaging through the fridge before Balthazar could finish his sentence. 

“I guess she’s making us breakfast then.” Balthazar muttered to Castiel.

“You boys can just sit down and relax.” Mary looked back to them and motioned to the table. 

“You’re spoiling us.” Balthazar clasped his hands together as he took a seat, Castiel sitting right beside him.

“Least I can do…” they heard Mary mumble as she whipped up something in the kitchen. 

Castiel wished that Mary would stop feeling so guilty for something that was entirely not her fault. None of this was. She had been nothing but wonderful to all of them and didn’t deserve all the blame she was placing upon herself. Castiel wished that he knew how to show how much he truly appreciated her, and that one day, she would truly know how much that was.

\---

Dean pursed his lips as he looked down at the paperwork he'd signed to get Castiel. There were many spaces left blank, and what was filled out like names of past owners and medical history, was written very vaguely and obviously without much care whatsoever. The lack of information really irked him. Who cares about the origin of the hole you’re fucking, right? He grit his teeth and rubbed his temples. The bud of an idea he had since he'd found out that Michael was Castiel's brother was blossoming, but had no direction to turn to get sunlight and grow. He had no idea what he was doing. 

"What's eating you, bro? Besides Cas, I mean." Dorothy asked as she slide into her chair behind the desk, snickering. Dean shot her a glare and she sighed. "Tough crowd. But really, what's up?" she asked.

Dean glanced down at the paper. Should he tell her? Maybe she could help.

"You gotta keep it on the down low, okay? It's just an idea, I don't want everyone to know yet." He told her. She leaned forward and nodded. "I was thinking about Michael and Castiel's siblings. The ones still left down here. I was thinking...maybe we could find them. And bring them, I guess. I don't know. I don't know how many there are or where they are or how to find them or how to get them, let alone how much money and work it would take. Maybe it's a stupid idea." He sighed. Dorothy opened her mouth to reply, but a voice from behind them cut her off.

“It’s not a stupid idea at all.” Michael said. They both spun to look at him as he approached, expression hard to read. 

Dean felt his throat go dry. “Don’t get your hopes up, Mikey, it was just an idea. I’m not sure if we can pull it off.”

“With my help you can.” He said a bit too quickly. “You forget, the only reason I am stuck down here was to find my siblings. There are two of them down here, and I am quite certain I already know the locations of them. It might have changed since I’ve lasted checked, but it’s a start. Castiel was the only one I struggled track down.” Michael said with an edge of spite, though his eyes showed a glint of hope at the thought of rescuing his other siblings.

Dorothy and Dean exchanged a glance. “Where are they?” Dorothy asked in curiosity. 

“My sister Anna, I managed to track her to a cleaning service, then to being privately owned by a man of wealth.”

“So, that’s what you’ve been doing with the computer I gave you guys?” Dean asked. 

Michael looked to him and answered hesitantly, “Yes.”

“Isn’t that information like, protected by the A.C.A or something?” Dean leaned back against the wall. 

“When you know where and how to look, it’s isn’t too difficult to find such information.” Michael said simply. 

Dean nodded, and Dorothy piped, “How about your other sibling?”

“My brother Samandriel, the youngest - he was bought as a baby, and taken to one of the A.C.A. facilities before being sold to the head of a major corporation, Fergus Crowley. I have a feeling, if he’s alive at this point, he would still be there.” Michael explained.

Dorothy stood up. “ _The_ Fergus Crowley? Holy shit.” She gasped.

Dean furrowed his brow. “Isn’t he like a huge business man or whatever? Why would he buy a baby angel?”

“He’s infamous for his ruthless drive to experiment in order to create new products. Lord knows what he would use an angel for.” Dorothy muttered. 

Michael nodded, then turned to look directly at Dean with a firm expression. “I thank you for saving my brother and his friend, but I will have you know that the minute you get me over the border, I will come back down to retrieve my other siblings or die trying. While having your help and your resources would make that a lot easier and much safer, you are under no obligation to do what I came here to do. I have to get back to work. Now, call me in if you are in need of my expertise.” And with that, he was gone out the door in a flash of his dirty, tawny, broad wings.

“When he said ‘no obligation’, I got the strangest feeling he was trying to put you under obligation.” Dorothy announced with a huff.

Dean looked back down at the paperwork. “No kidding.”

He went back to work, which lasted about twenty minutes before Benny dragged him to the side. “Brother, you are distracted. I know this ain’t rocket science, but you at least need to pay attention to what you’re doing before you drill a screw into the upholstery head of that Vista Cruiser.” He fixed Dean with the deep, prodding gaze he’d come to have a love hate relationship with. Dean huffed, but decided not to make a fuss over the accusation.

“I’ve been...thinking--” Dean started with a sigh. 

Benny chuckled. “That’s never good.”

“Har har har. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Cas and Michael’s siblings. The ones still down here.” Dean told him. 

Benny squinted at him. “That’s sure a risky train of thought there, Dean. You sure you wanna make that commitment?”

 

Dean groaned and rolled his neck. “That’s the problem! What if we can’t find them, let alone buy them, let alone get them up there? What if I mention it to Cas and he get his hopes up for a dream that I can’t carry through on? Michael already knows. He gave me the fucking hardest stare I’ve ever had the pleasure of having fixed on me. Like he was trying to will me to do it. It was fucking terrifying, okay? I don’t want to do the wrong thing. But I don’t want to get everyone worked up over a pipe dream, anyway.” 

Benny pursed his lips. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a fine quarrel there. But I think you should at least try. It’s the right thing to do, and you wouldn’t be so worked up if it wasn’t.” 

Dean’s shoulders sagged. He hated when Benny told him when he was already right. Then he took a deep breath, and straightened up again. “Can you take over for me for a minute? I’ve gotta go talk to Michael and your sister.”

 

Benny nodded. “Sure thing, brother.”

\---

“Wait, you’re really gonna give this a shot?” Dorothy asked incredulously, earning a hard glance from Michael.

“I’ve gotta try. I want you two to work together to track down Anna, which should be the easiest thing. And anything else you can dig up.” Dean replied firmly. 

“I assure you, with your resources, I will be able to track the whereabouts of all of them.” Michael said sternly, a glint in his eyes and an air of something Dean didn’t understand about him. Dean just nodded solemnly, and turned to head back to work. He paused in the doorway.

“And I don’t want either of you mentioning this to Cas, or to Balthazar. I refuse to get their hopes up without good reason. That’s just a dick move.” He added.

“They’ve been hurt enough. We understand.” Dorothy replied. Michael cast a glance at both of them, then turned away silently.

Dean ground his teeth together and forced himself to focus on finishing the job in the garage. He could worry about this off the clock.

\---

Castiel felt like he was doing nothing but sitting on his thumbs. He wasn’t truly doing that, of course; that wouldn’t be very comfortable. But this idleness, doing nothing but sitting around the apartment, it made him feel unproductive and useless. Everyone assured him that it was alright, that he should just rest and focus on getting better, but he was alright. There was pain, yes, but that - that’s normal. Castiel wasn’t going to just stop everything because of this travesty. It was not the first time, and he didn’t have enough hope in him to believe it the last. All good things eventually come to an end. Hopefully, this, what he had with the Winchesters, would last. Or was that too much to wish for? 

So far today, Castiel had beat seven out of eight games of checkers with Balthazar - he let him win, otherwise they would have been playing well past midnight with how determined Balthazar was to win. 

“Finally, I _finally_ beat you!” Balthazar exclaimed with a cry of victory, hands in the air and colorful wings spreading out in excitement, his primaries only millimeters from touching the wall. Castiel cracked a smile a felt himself relax for a moment. 

Mary walked through the door with a basketful of laundry just as Balthazar began to rejoice. “Well then,” she let out a warm laugh as she placed the basket on the table, “congratulations!” 

Balthazar continued smiling as he folded back his wings and got to his feet. “Well, now that I’ve finally won - even though you let me win, don’t think I didn’t notice that - I’m going to ask if Dorothy can come pick me up.”

“You’re leaving?” Mary asked with a small frown. 

“There comes a time each month in every omega’s life where the need to reproduce becomes so strong that they have to be excused from society to deal with their body’s desires of shoving anything representing a phallus up their canals.” Balthazar stated, topping it off with a signature grin. 

“O-oh,” Balthazar’s forwardness caught Mary off guard. “I - I could drive you back myself if you need to go now.” she offered.

He chuckled. “Eager to get rid of me now, are we?”

“No, of course not! I just thought that you might be more comfortable if--””

“I know, I know.” Balthazar looked to her. “I’m just teasing.”

“He does that a lot,” Castiel said, looking over his shoulder towards Balthazar. 

Mary’s face lightened. “That I’ve gathered.” She took a moment’s pause. “I just want you to know that no matter what, you always have a place with us.” 

Balthazar rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Thank you.” he said with gratitude before leaving the room to make a call to Dorothy. As Castiel watched him walk into the other room, it hit him with heavy impact with how lucky, how _blessed_ they were to be purchased by such wonderful people, a literal godsend. ‘Saved’, that was probably the more proper wording, but that didn’t change the fact that to everyone else, they were just things that were bought, used, and put away when done with. These humans saw past the heavy sheet of Southern normalcy that laid upon this cursed land. Out of all the angels that they could have saved, why Castiel? What did he do to be deemed worthy enough? 

Castiel cleared his throat. “Let me help you with those.” he said, rising to his feet to aid Mary with the clean laundry. 

“Oh no honey, you don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” Castiel informed her firmly, as it seemed she was about to object. Before she could say anything more on the matter, he grabbed an article of clothing from the basket. It was one of his shirts, he soon found out. Quickly and quietly, he folded it with finesse. Mary watched him as he continued to fold at a fluid pace, though she tried not to show it. After he folded a pair of Dean’s jeans that were ripped at the knees and a pair of miss-colored socks, Mary returned to the task at hand, both working in silence. 

Back at Zachariah’s, Castiel often volunteered on helping with laundry duties and all that they entailed, and Balthazar in the kitchen (thought what he was allowed to cook was _very_ limited). Being fucked and lounging in the dank cells weren’t the only thing Castiel and the other slaves spent all their time doing, after all. These forms of work were not required of them; Zachariah had other angels for the other work that was required to properly run a brothel, but the whores were free to do so if they had a free or a slow day, with permission, of course. As long as they were still working, it wasn’t seen as a problem. 

Most of the laundry there consisted of bedding: pillowcases, sheets, blankets, whatever else tended to get dirty during sessions. The wash was always going, as it was the most important. Next came their clothing, even with what little of them that they had. For years, Castiel has done this, leading all the way back to helping Gran. It was something that he could become lost in, amongst all the crisp folds and fresh scent of clothing detergent. 

The basket was now empty, and stacks of clothes sat upon the table. 

“I’m going to go put these away.” Castiel told Mary as he scooped his clean clothes into his arms and headed to his room. When he entered it, he found Balthazar sitting on his bed, just getting off the phone with Dorothy, he assumed. 

“She’ll be here in about ten minutes,” Balthazar said with a sigh. 

“How are you doing?” Castiel asked.

“God, I’m getting tired of that question. I’m _fine_.” 

Castiel placed the pile down on his dresser and took a seat beside Balthazar. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Bal. I care for you, you know that.”

Balthazar looked down to his lap and folded his hands. “Ever since I’ve been here, heats were the only time my body was more or less my own, and I could do whatever I pleased with it. I was the one in control. And you know what, it was okay. I was okay.

“But now, knowing what I have,” Balthazar swallowed, “i-it makes me nothing more than this sex-hungry slut, bending over to get pounded by anything resembling a dick.” 

“That’s not true.”

“Well, it damn feels like it is.” Balthazar spat bitterly, placing his hand to his neck and rubbed anxiously at the collar around his neck. Castiel stayed silent. He understood that feeling all too well. 

“Try to think of something nice. Watch porn, or something. The good kind.” Castiel suggested. 

Balthazar’s lips curled upward ever so slightly. “I suppose there’s that.” He got up and went for the door. “I can try,” he muttered before heading into the other room. Castiel took a minute to place his clothing neatly into their proper drawer, and left to rejoin his friend. 

He found them in the living room, Mary sitting on one end of the couch with a book in hand, and Balthazar on the other, busy doing something on his phone. Both seemed satisfied with their activities, and even though Castiel knew that Balthazar wouldn’t mind if Castiel took a seat beside him, he thought it best to leave them be.

As he turned to go elsewhere, his wings fidgeted without warning, pain tugging at his injured wing. Castiel let out a small whimper of surprise before he was able to catch it. Balthazar and Mary both looked up from what they were doing. 

“Everything alright there?” Mary asked. 

Castiel turned his head to look at her, face twisted into a wince as the pain continued to pulsate. “Mhh,” he said with a nod. Mary didn’t seem to buy it, but Castiel would have been shocked if she did. He didn’t even attempt to cover up his pain. Mary didn’t press any further, and Castiel started toward the kitchen, where he found his medication on the counter. He stopped and looked at it for a moment before slowly approaching the counter. 

He still had quite the struggle with taking drugs, let alone actually opening the bottle and plopping one in his mouth himself out of his own free will. Castiel knew he after swallowing them down and gave them a few minutes, he would feel better and less riddled with pain, but this part he struggled with. Drugs have been forced and abused into and through his so much, that the sight, or even the thought of any form of medication made him feel queasy and filled him with the urge to run away as fast as he could. 

Swallowing away his anxiety, Castiel grabbed ahold of the bottle, popped of the lid, shook it gently until a pill fell into his sweaty palm, and put in his mouth before he had any second thoughts. With a swig of water, it went down his throat with ease. He let out a shaky breath, then lidded the small contain and placed it back on its designated spot on the counter. Castiel still had other things he had to take for multiple ailments, to his dismay, but that would be later one. Oh, the joys of being an injured slave. 

He put the cup down onto the countertop before he remembered that if it weren’t for these people that cared about him, he’d only be granted a week or so’s respite and would be forced to return to his duty of being a rented-out sex toy and continue on through the pain. Zachariah had a strict no feather pulling policy, but unfortunately, it happened more often than any of them wanted. Balthazar had it bad, since his wings were of a most uncommon color for angels. As Zachariah prized Balthazar as the beautiful oddity that he was, he made sure that those men who harmed him in such a way paid him a hefty fine for damaging his property, and would be banned from ever returning to his establishment. Those were the only times that Zachariah had actually allowed Castiel to stay with Balthazar, not that Castiel really needed his permission, and he was sure that Zachariah had known that too. He and Balthazar were inseparable. 

These people cared enough that they purchased Balthazar, just because Castiel made the happy mistake of mentioning him. It made Castiel wonder how far Dean and the others would go for them. What they have proven so far went way past Castiel’s expectations, and even with each passing day, some were still hard for him to comprehend. It just felt so… bizarre. It made him wonder if this could all be a dream, and when he would wake up. He’s come too far to go back to how it was before, and when he did, _if_ he did, he was sure that it would truly break him. 

“Cassie. Cas, Castiel!” 

He turned at the sound of his name.

“Where’d you go?” Balthazar asked, standing a few feet behind him. 

“I didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been here the whole time.” Castiel stated.

Balthazar shook his head. “I’ve called your name about fourteen times and you didn’t respond until until the fifteenth.” 

“Oh,”

“What were you thinking about?” Balthazar asked quietly. 

Castiel thought for a moment. “Nothing in particular.” 

Balthazar sighed and didn’t push any further. “Well, Dorothy’s going to be here any minute now.” He seemed almost reluctant to leave, dreading what was to come.

“If you want, I could...” Castiel cleared his throat, “...come and stay with you.” He met Balthazar’s eyes with an almost bashful look. 

It took a moment for Balthazar to realise what Castiel was insinuating. “Oh, no no no, you don’t have to.” He laughed and gave his feathers a little shake. “I’ll make out just fine. I’m very well capable of pleasuring myself. Or at least, making given circumstances more bearable.” 

“I know. I thought I’d offer anyway, in case it would be more comforting.” 

“I don’t know if it would be exactly comforting,” Balthazar mused, “more like pushing the boundaries of our friendship to become something… more.” 

“We’ve gone quite past what I’d think a normal friendship would be.” Castiel stated. 

“True, but we did what he had to do to survive that place.” 

Castiel considered this. “Things have changed since then, but it still isn’t all that different.” Balthazar gave him a confused look, so Castiel continued. “We’re still in danger,” he gestured towards his bandaged wing, “and for as much as I know, we always will be. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to get away from this, not completely, at least.” Balthazar’s wings drooped and his gaze faltered. “I just thought that I would offer my assistance, thought maybe I could, I don’t know, somehow make things better.” 

Balthazar smirked. “Thank Cassie, I appreciate it. I’ve managed to go through my heats alone for twelve years, I think I’ll manage.” Castiel nodded and left it at that.

 

“Honey, I’m home!” comes Dorothy’s chiming voice from the entrance of the apartment. Dean followed her through the door, a grin that was probably a little forced on his face. Maybe he was over analyzing himself. Castiel probably wouldn’t notice.

The two omegas headed out of the kitchen into the living room, grinning at the sight of their respective “owners”. 

“Ready to go, kiddo?” Dorothy asked. 

“Yeah, gotta get home in time to impale my supple anus on some choice adult toys. You know, normal weekday stuff.” Balthazar drawled, trailing his wings over the couch as he approached Dorothy.

Cas blinked, and Dorothy laughed and clapped Bal on the shoulder.“This is a family show, Rainbow Wings.” She chuckled.

“Tell that to Mr. Ass Sucker over here.” Balthazar replied, jerking a thumb towards Dean, who choked on his own saliva. Dorothy wheezed, and Castiel turned a light shade of red.

Dean ushered them both out the door, shaking his head as he waved goodbye and closed it. “You watch too much Gossip Girl, apparently.” Dean teased, turning back to Cas. 

Cas just crossed his arms. “You’re the one who pretends not to follow that Doctor Sexy show religiously. It doesn’t even have good lighting.” Castiel replied primly. 

Dean shook his head and walked towards the kitchen. “I’d offer you a beer, but….”

“Shut up! That was Balthazar’s fault.” Castiel said as he followed him, light golden wings catching the fluorescent kitchen light bulb. The gleam caught Dean’s eye as he turned and he forgot what he was going to say. He forced himself to rip his gaze back to Castiel’s face, pasting that awkward smile again. Castiel’s own smile seemed to momentarily falter, and Dean cursed his inability to act casual around the angel. Hopefully, Cas would think it was attraction related. It wasn’t like he could guess what Dean was planning.

“Beers are out of the picture, that’s for sure. Would you like some apple juice?” Dean asked.

“No, thank you.” Cas replied, and stretched out his arms with a yawn. “You got home late. Later than usual. Or I just didn’t sleep long enough.”

Dean pulled a beer from the fridge and used the edge of the counter to pop the cap. “Yeah, got caught up on a detail job. How was your day? H-how are the wings?” He asked, trying to keep his eyes away from both the healthy feathers and the bandages. Both were equally distracting, but for far different reasons. His roiling stomach at the thought of Castiel’s injuries reminded him starkly of that.

“It was alright. Balthazar and I had a good time, and my wings are doing alright.”

 

“Good, good that’s - good.” Dean nodded awkwardly. Wow, he really needed to get a hold of himself before he made everything too weird. 

Dean looked around the kitchen. _Quick, think of something else to talk about…_ There on the opposite end of the counter were the books they had gotten from the library a few days back. “So, I guess we should get reading those books soon, huh?” He motioned towards them. “Maybe Sam could help out.”

Castiel looked down at the floor. “Do you really think Sam wouldn’t mind teaching me what I’ve missed out on?” He asked.

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah, he’ll go ape shit and write a curriculum outline or some crap like that. Actually, I believe he already has one. It’ll be good for both of you. I’ll ask him about it later, if you want.”

Cas nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“I think Jess has some brochures for these learning centers up North, for newly freed slaves to get educations. Maybe we can enroll you in one when we get up there.” Dean suggested. 

Cas looked back up at him, head tilted to the side. “Really? They have those?”

“Yeah, they do. And like a lot of other helping organizations and benefits and stuff like that. They’re all about helping people up there, so I hear.” Dean replied. Cas smiled at him, a soft, amused smile that made Dean’s chest constrict a little.

“What?” Dean asked, when Castiel said nothing to accompany the look. 

Cas smiled wider. “If they’re all about helping people up there, you and your family will fit right in.”

Dean’s chest tightened a little more, despite the warmth that bubbled up his throat. He smiled a softer, gentler smile that mirrored Castiel’s.

“ _Our_ family, Cas.”

 

\---

A while later, after relaxing with Dean on the couch and watching an episode of his crappy tv show that he seemed to be so enthralled in, Castiel became tired, though the conversation a few hours before left him feeling warm inside. Happiness, contentment, hope, he figured after taking a few moments to identify these foreign feelings. 

Though all of these feelings were being pushed in the corner as Castiel observed that Dean was withholding something from him, watching him glance at him from time to time, fidgeting from time to time, biting his lip. Castiel was tempted to ask what was on Dean’s mind, but he decided against it. It was not his place to ask, and if Dean wanted to tell him, he would. Maybe it had something do with what he was doing all day… 

“Getting sleepy there, Cas?” Dean asked as Castiel let out a big yawn. 

“Mhhm,” he mumbled with a lazy nod, rubbing away at the tears that gathered in his eyes. 

Dean smiled fondly. “You should get some sleep, Cas.” 

“‘Kay,” Slowly, Castiel got up from the couch. “Night, Dean.” 

“G’night, Cas. Sweet dreams!” 

Castiel pattered off to the bathroom to wash up before bed, and did his best to take his pills without thought. He found it much easier than before somehow, as miraculous as that is. 

He returned to his room, only giving Dean a slight glance as he passed the living room. Dean said goodnight once more before he shut his door and began to change. Castiel struggled slightly with taking off his clothes, as he tried to be mindful of his wing, but he managed. He always did. 

Just before he was about to get into bed, he noticed that someone had tried to contact him on his cell phone. Curiously, he picked it up, turned it on, and found a text left by Balthazar. _”hasn't started yet, just wanted to say night b4 you go to sleep :* “_

Castiel smiled softly at the text, and replied with, _night. Take care <3 _ He put the phone down on his nightstand, turned off the lights, and fell asleep with ease.

\---

Dean stood there, eye lingering at the place where Cas had been sitting next to him. He really wasn’t the best at being subtle. Though, he was sure Cas didn’t have any idea what he was planning. He didn’t enjoy the tension, but it wouldn’t last long. Just long enough that Dean could make sure everything was set and stable before getting his hopes up. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep, Cas deserved better than that. 

He stood and stretched his arms behind his back before he headed for the door that conjoined their apartments. He didn’t bother to knock, just barged in the door.

“Polite as you are handsome.” Jess said without looking up from her book. 

Dean smiled, then frowned. “Where’s Sam?”

“Bathroom. Why, is something up? Top secret family business?” Jess asked, finally casting a glance his way.

“No, you should be here too. I’ve got...well, you’ll just have to wait till he gets back.” Dean replied. 

“Wait for what?” Sam asked as he walked around the corner of the hallway entrance, plopping onto the couch next to Jess.

Dean felt a little silly, standing in front of the as they sat down like he was going to put on some presentation or announce he’d gotten Cas pregnant. Oh, god, not the mental image he needed right now. He took a deep breath and clapped his hands together. “Lately, I’ve been thinking about some stuff. I talked to Dorothy and Michael about it today. It’s just an idea. But it’s one that I need to talk to everyone about before it goes any further.” He started. 

“Please tell me you aren’t getting your dick pierced like you wanted to in high school.” Sam groaned. 

Dean huffed at him and screwed up his face. “That was a valid idea, buttwipe. No, this is way more serious. Life and death serious, probably. Look - a lot of Cas and Michael’s siblings are still down here. Well, not a _lot_...a few. And I don’t think we should leave them behind.” He announced.

Sam sat up straighter, exchanging a look with Jess. “Are you crazy? We don’t have those kind of resources, that kind of time, that kind of _money._ ” Sam exclaimed.

“We don’t right now, yeah, but--” Dean tried to reply, but Sam cut him off by standing up.

“Look, Dean, I wish more than anybody that we could save them all. But we can’t. And we’ll just destroy ourselves trying. We’ve already risked enough, already set ourselves back enough. And, yeah, it was for good reasons, but we can’t afford to take anymore risks. What if it all falls apart when we try to get them and nobody gets to be free? Do you think Cas would want that?” Sam asked.

Dean balled his hands into fists. “Don’t fucking play like that, Sammy. And don’t you dare try and tell me what that angel wants - hell, he doesn’t know what he wants! And all that I can think about when I look at him is what would have happened if we’d found someone else, and not tried to find him too. Michael and Dorothy can find them, that’s all Michael’s ever done! We can find them, and if we put our heads together we can afford them. We have to try. Aren’t you the one who’s always preaching about following your heart and doing the right thing? What if we can save them and we can all be free, but we’re too afraid to try and live the rest of our lives not knowing if we could or not?” Dean retorted, not caring how loud his voice was. He was practically yelling. 

Jess stood up, expression soft, and laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “He’s right, babe. I know you’re just trying to be logical, and I know it’s a risk...but we have to try.” She said softly. The tension left Sam’s shoulders, and consequently left Dean’s.

\---

Castiel woke from his sleep by the sound of muffled shouts - ones that sounded a lot like Dean’s. He became alert at the realisation, pushing away the covers and tiptoeing through his bedroom door with concern. 

He looked around carefully, but found that Dean was nowhere in sight. There, through the adjoining door to Sam and Jess’s apartment, were voices, though they were now more hushed than the ones that had caused Castiel to wake. 

Looking around once me to be sure that he was indeed alone, he quietly crept towards the door, straining his keen ears to hear what was being said more clearly. He’s always been too curious for his own good.

“Okay. Alright. I’m with you, whatever you decide. I’ve got a bad feeling, but I have a good one too. I hope this works out without a hitch.” Castiel heard Sam say. He scrunched his brow and leaned in closer.

Jess was the next to speak. “If it doesn’t - well, we both know that we can’t save everyone. Sometimes freedom is just a pipe dream, sadly. At least we tried.” _Wait…_ Castiel’s heart palpitated. A single thought entered his mind. _They are going to sell me._

Dean sighed. “Don’t tell Cas yet, okay? I wanna...I made him promises I couldn’t keep before. It seems like all I do is hurt him no matter how hard I try. Hopefully, this will work out and I won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Castiel began to panic.

 _This_ was what Dean’s secret was, what he was secretly working on all day. He was going to _sell_ him. He really was that much of a burden that Dean wanted to rid of him at soonest possible moment so he would have to _worry_.

“We won’t tell him.” Jess assured Dean.

That - that was it, he couldn’t bare to listen to them any longer. Castiel ran to his room and shut the door, letting out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Tears pricked his eyes with a painful heat, and his hands began to shake. He tried so hard, god, _so_ so hard to be good and perfect, but he wasn’t good enough for them. He wasn’t good enough for anything. 

An intense wave of mixed emotions struck him, and the angel fell to his knees and clasped his head between trembling hands as a sob rattled through his body. He felt so overwhelmed, so confused. Dean has said he - he promised him that he would always be there, that he would keep him safe and take him North and let him have freedom - _that he was family_! Were all of those just to make him comfortable and at peace? What about all the ones Dean had made him that night? 

It made Castiel _so angry_. Not so much at Dean, but at himself. He was so utterly _stupid_! He knew something like this would happen, deep down, he knew. He went against his better judgement and let their hope-filled promises and sweet smiles weasel their way in his heart and gain his trust, and for what?

Why - why did Dean even save him and take the time to bond with him in every way if this was all that was to happen in the end? Was it just so Dean could make a better buck off of him and sell him for more than he bought him for? Maybe it wasn’t always like this. When did Castiel go wrong? There was so many things he had done wrong but, what was the turn point? Was there even one at all?  
_”Hopefully, this will work out and I won’t have to worry about that anymore.”_

Castiel grabbed his pillow from the bed and screamed into it, letting absorb all of his pain and rage.

 _”Sometimes freedom is just a pipe dream.”_

_”I hope this works without a hitch.”_

He threw the pillow to the ground and began to punch it with fists of fury, tears streaming down his cheeks. _Damnit damnit damnit damnit!_ His fists continued to pound down upon it, over and over and over, until he grew tired and grief took anger’s place. At this point, all Castiel wanted to know was _why_. He didn’t need the voice that haunted him to tell him why, he already knew he was beyond saving, but maybe, just maybe…

 _No._ It would all be over soon. It had been a wonderful dream. Part of him wished it never happened so he wouldn’t feel this crippling pain tearing his soul apart. It had been all too good to be true. 

_Why?_

Castiel didn’t want to go back. He liked it here he - he liked being in control of his body. He was allowed say ‘no’ here. He got to eat three times a day, and even extra if he wanted. He had united with his older brother, and got to spend plenty of time with Balthazar. He--

 _Balthazar._ If he got sold off somewhere he-- what would happen to Balthazar? 

Still on his knees, Castiel scurried to his nightstand and grabbed his cellphone, calling Balthazar’s number on speed dial. He answered almost immediately. _”Cassie, what’s going on?”_ Balthazar spoke quickly within a single labored breath. 

“Balthazar I…” Castiel wiped a tear from his cheek. “W-wait are you - oh god I forgot I’m sorry I’ll just--”

 _“N-no Cas, it’s alright. Stay on the phone. Tell me what’s wrong. I can hold off the desperate need to fuck myself for a few minutes.”_ He let out a small chuckle. _”What’s wrong?”_

Castiel sighed deeply. “I overheard the humans talking a-and I - I think that Dean he,” Castiel voice hitched, “they’re going to sell me.” 

_“Wh-what?”_ he asked in disbelief. _”That can’t be right are you sure that he--”_

“I heard them, Balthazar, they--” Tears welled in his eyes. “I just want to know why. Wh-what d-did I do?”

 _”God…”_ Balthazar muttered quietly. _”Just--”_ he sighed, _”listen, I’ll--”_

“I-It sounded like they organized a meetup, o-or have someone come and take me away to God knows where a-and--”

 _”Castiel.”_ Balthazar let out a small pant. _”I wouldn’t let them, I promise you, if they even lay a finger on you, I’ll swoop you away so fast that they won’t even know what happened.”_

“You can’t make promises that you can’t keep, Bal, not to me, please.” Castiel pleaded, voice weak.

 _”I would do anything for you, and you know that.”_ That much was true. _”Try to get some sleep, and contact me in the morning. Call me and keep me on the line if you must, though I might have to multitask at some points of our call…”_

“No, i-it’ll - it’ll be alright.” _I hope._ “If anything happens is it okay if - can I call you then?” 

_”Definitely, Cassie. Anytime.”_

Castiel sighed. He couldn’t say he felt any better, but he was assured (though only slightly) by his friend, whom would be there for him for as long as he possibly could. “A-alright. Well I should let you get back to doing your thing.” 

_“More like doing_ myself _. I love you, Cassie. Be safe.”_

Castiel nodded, and hanged up. He put the phone back on the nightstand and glanced over to his pillow, still laying on the ground. He reached over for it and placed it back at the head of the bed, slipping under his covers right after. Castiel was sure he wouldn’t sleep after all this, but what choice did he have? His wants didn’t matter. He was nothing more than a slave. 

\---

Dean rubbed his hands over his face. “God, this is pretty risky. Where are we gonna get this kind of money?” He exclaimed.

 

“From me, obviously.” Their mother’s voice rang out from the hallway entrance, causing them all to turn. Mary was leaning against the wall with a tired smile.

“Shit, mom - we didn’t mean to wake you.” Sam replied.

“It’s okay, dear. I was already awake, and I couldn’t help hearing your plan. I want to help. I have money.” Mary told them as she stepped forward.

“We’re talking almost a million dollars, approximately, Mom--”

“I have double that in my bank.” Mary said smoothly. They all stared at her.

“ _What?_ ”

Mary waved her hand. “Boys, boys, you know your grandparents were loaded. Where do you think all that money went?” 

Dean opened and closed his mouth. “Not _that_ loaded! I assumed the house and insurance and our tuitions!”

 

Mary laughed. “We wanted to live comfortable lives, not extravagant ones. Your--” Her face fell a little, and she cleared her throat. “John wasn’t one for trust funds. I have more money than you’ll need to buy all those angels, let alone get them over the North. I can’t think of a better cause for that money, can you?” 

Jess squealed in excitement and ran to hug Mary. Dean’s face split into a huge grin, but Sam remained wary. 

“That’s great, but where will they stay before we can get them to the North? We can’t split them between here and Benny’s, and there’s already enough angels in the basement at work, regardless of how comfortable we tried to make it.” Sam asked in his practical lawyer voice.

Mary waved her hand dismissively. “We can let some stay with me at the house. It is my house, after all. We’ll go get them, set them up to live with us, and when we’re ready to move North we’ll sell the house to be even more financially secure on our journey.”

 

The room was silent, and everyone looked at Sam, who’s face was blank and considerate as the gears whirled in his head. Slowly, a hopeful smile appeared. “This just might work.” He said happily. Jess pecked Mary on the cheek.

Dean leaned against the wall, a weight lifted from his shoulders. 

“Man, I can’t wait to tell Cas tomorrow.”


	13. An Ache That Never Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to escalate after a grievous misunderstanding.

Castiel watched as the hours of the early morning ticked by slowly. His attempts of sleeping seemed to fail tremendously, and each time he did fall asleep, he was woken up from terrifying nightmares with his heart almost beating out of his chest and a scream caught in his throat. A good night’s rest would have to wait for another time, if there would ever be one.

He stared blankly at the ever slow-moving alarm clock, his heart lying in shambles and even the smallest bits of hope were completely obliterated. Castiel just laid there, thinking over the events that were bound to happen in the upcoming hours, but the recurring question was always _why_?

It was the sounds of muffled speech and clinking of plates that brought Castiel back to reality. He supposed that it would be proper to get up and see if whoever was out there needed a hand and just pretend that everything was the way it was yesterday morning, but he was afraid. The angel would have to leave his room sooner or later but--

That was it. He needed to get up now and get this over with. _Just like taking off a band-aid._ Castiel rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh and hastily fixed the blankets and pillows before getting dressed. He took a glance around his dim-lit room once more before grasping the doorknob with a sweaty hand. 

This was it, once he left the false sense of safety of his bedroom, he was to meet whatever came his way without any resistance. He would just have to accept it. 

Before any second thoughts came to mind, Castiel opened the door and walked into the open space of the apartment. Dean, Jess and Sam were all preparing breakfast. Why everyone was here this early in the morning, Castiel could only dread. 

Dean was setting plates on the table when Castiel started to approach slowly, a wide grin appearing on the man’s face when he spotted him. “Oh, good morning, Cas!” he greeted with way too much cheer. It caught Castiel off guard, and he felt himself grimace. Dean’s face fell a bit. “You look exhausted. Did you not sleep well?” 

“Not entirely.” Castiel spoke in a tired voice and turned away a bit. He hadn’t really thought of looking at himself in a mirror and seeing how much of a toll last night’s news had taken on his complexion. 

“Would you like some coffee?” Dean offered. 

Castiel considered for a moment, then nodded. He wasn’t one to turn down coffee, and it wouldn’t harm him to be more alert and less drowsy for whatever they had planned. 

As Dean filled a cup for Castiel, Jess and Sam bustled in the kitchen, finishing up what looked like scrambled eggs, bacon, and french toast. The smells were quite enticing. _It’s ‘The Last Breakfast’,_ Castiel thought to himself humorlessly. If they were just going to get rid of him, why waste time on making such a fancy breakfast? Was this somehow their way of saying sorry for what they were about to do? If they were going to do it, they should just do it now. He hated the waiting, the unknowing, the way they kept _smiling_ at him like everything was just so fucking dandy. 

Soon, the table was set, and they all went to their usual seats. Castiel reluctantly sat down, feeling small trickles of anger and pain seep through his pores. Dean sat across from Castiel, Sam beside him, and to Castiel’s right sat Jess. And they all seemed so _happy_. And for as much as he could tell, it was genuine happiness. Fuck them and their stupid smiley faces and tasty breakfast. If they wanted him gone just get _fucking rid of him already_!

Castiel squeezed his leg and took began to take long, timed breaths. He had to try to calm down. He could feel the anger building up under his skin, threatening burst at any moment in any form necessary. By some miracle, he managed to calm down some, not completely, but enough that he didn’t feel the urge to rip apart the entire kitchen table. 

“You doing alright there, Cas?” Sam asked. 

Castiel looked up from his plate. “I’m fine,” he replied, “just… a bit tired.” Well, that wasn’t a complete lie.

“Well, drink up.” Dean picked up his one coffee mug and waggled his eyebrows at him as he took a sip of the hot, bitter beverage. Castiel looked to his, and picked it up slowly. 

What if they had put something in it so he’d be more compliant for later? It wouldn’t be the first time, and Castiel dreaded that it wouldn’t be the last. 

“It’s not gonna bite.” informed Dean, waiting for Castiel to take a sip. 

The angel looked down to the mug, the brought it to his lips and took a sip. That seemed to please Dean. _He is my master,_ Castiel reminded himself. _Masters are to be obeyed._

Everyone began to help themselves and pass around the bountiful breakfast. Castiel’s stomach was churning and he hated the thought of eating, but he helped himself to what he wanted and began to eat when everyone else did. 

“Oh,” Dean said suddenly and got up from the table. Castiel watched him suspiciously as Dean walked to the kitchen, then the distinct sound of pills being shaken out of a bottle were heard. 

Castiel tensed. He didn’t want to take them, whatever they were. God, he barely even started eating his breakfast yet! Maybe he would just hide the pill under his tongue. No, that would be disobedient of him. But did that really matter anymore? He would be gone by the end of the day anyway. 

“Here, Cas.” Dean opened his hand to reveal - oh, it was his pain medication. 

“Th-thank you,” Castiel muttered, taking out of Dean’s hand without really looking at him. He hadn’t paid any attention to his wing, not with everything else that was going on. A healing wings was the least of his worries. He took a quick examination of the pill in the palm of his hand, making sure it was really what it was, then plopped it in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee. Why did Dean pretend to care? _Please, just stop._ The pain and anger only grew. Castiel clenched his jaw and kept his eyes downcast, forcing himself to eat the food on his plate, trying to control the storm brewing within himself.

“The ownership of the shop should be legally mine any day now.” Dean informed them. “Just waiting on the call to go and make it official.”

“That’s great!” Jess exclaimed. “You ready for the responsibility of being the big boss?” 

Dean chuckled. “I’ve been acting as the boss long before it was to be finalized.” 

“I’m happy for you, Dean. You deserve it.” Sam praised. 

“It’s been a bit touch and go but, I think things are finally looking up.” said Dean.

Anger seethed within Castiel. They had pretended to care for Castiel so well that he - he had actually _believed_ them. They had pulled him in so far that he actually let himself get drawn into their lies that were soaked with honey. 

And then there was Dean, his dear ol’ master Dean. How he coaxed Castiel’s complete trust in such short time was the biggest joke of them all. He had fallen for Dean’s false acts of kindness, time and time again. Was he really that desperate to become more than he was, something he could never be, just because this human told him he could - _promised_ he could? There had been the soft touches, the gentle words, the way he looked at him. There had been moments that Castiel had completely forgotten his place around Dean, and found himself actually thinking he was equal.

Next came the question that had been eating away at Castiel for hours: _why_? _Why?!_ He had _trusted_ Dean! Most of it was his fault for being so fucking foolish, he realised, but he knew enough that Dean had fault in this also. He destroyed Castiel’s heart. Castiel had _trusted_ him! 

Some conversation had passed since Castiel struggled within himself, his hold on his rage becoming weak. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he'd started to think maybe having hope wouldn't hurt him. Ha, how wrong he had been about that. Typical omega stupidity. 

Suddenly, a laugh breaks the hold his mind has on his impending fury. Dean's laugh. Dean is laughing. _Laughing._ What right does he have to be so happy? Why does his impending misery bring joy to everyone else? Why? What had he done wrong? _Why?_

The world is stained red, and his heart is blazing hot with agony and righteous wrath. It rose up and clogged his throat, ripping and burning the air he breathed. 

Emotion took over mind, and with a fistfull of voilent agony, he stood from the table and punched Dean right in the face with such a force that sent the man falling backwards in his chair and plummeting to the ground. A silence caused by complete shock fell over those who had witnessed the abrupt action of violence, but all Castiel hears was the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Wh--” Dean started to say, but is stunned into silence once more as Castiel threw his plate from the table, causing it break as it came in contact with the wall. His eyes lock with Dean’s, but the combination of anger and tears clouded his eyes from the fear in Dean’s. 

He took a few quick, furious steps towards Dean, wings snapping out into an intimidating stature. Dean shuffled back, trying to get up from the ground and away from him. But Castiel wouldn’t have any of that. A yell of frustration ripped from the omega as he kicked Dean square in the chest, causing the air being knocked out of him as he hit the ground once more. 

Castiel stared down in anger at the cowering man below him. His feathers were on end, making his wings appear larger and much more aggressive. “I _trusted you_ Dean!” Castiel seethed. “That’s something that I don’t - I _never_ do that I don’t--” The tension that built up in his chest was unbearable. “I learned from a very young age that trust wasn’t just s-something I could give, something that I sh-shouldn’t give to anyone, y-yet for some _stupid_ reason, I gave it to you! I _trusted_ you. And for what? For some shitty false promises? W-why, what for? Why give a slave hope when it _already has none_! _Why_?!” 

Tears streamed down his face as he continued. “I-I tried so hard to be good a-and I know I never will be but, I tried, I _really tried_! But it wasn’t good enough, _of course_ I’m not good enough! _I already know that_! Y-you don’t have to pretend otherwise, you don’t have to - to be _deceiving_! Just--” he shook. “ _I fucking trusted you_! _Why_ , Dean? _Why_ would you do this to me, after _all_ that you had said; that you _promised_? W-what was the whole _point_ of that when this is what you were planning anyway? 

“You are _no better than them_! You seem to think you are, but you’re not! _You’re all the same_! I must have been _so desperate_ to think you were any different - or that you actually _cared_! Wh - why Dean, _why_?!” Castiel viciously spat, chest heaving with anger that still had a firm hold on him. 

“Cas I… what... are you talking about?” Dean asked carefully. 

“What?” Castiel looked at him with shock. “Y-you know what I’m talking about! I may be an idiot, but I’m not a _complete_ idiot!” 

“Cas, I’m sorry buddy, but honestly, I have no idea what this is all about.” Dean said apologetically. “I’m sorry,”

Castiel looked down at him with confusion, and as he did, he realised what he had just done. Dean was sitting on the ground, remaining in the same position that he was where Castiel had so roughly put him. Blood was pouring from Dean’s nose, and more trickled from the split in his lip. But the look in his eyes…

“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Dean repeated. “I-I’m sorry,” His eyes were wide, full of confusion fear. _Fear of me,_ Castiel realised, and felt his wings sag to his side and he shrank back. Dean was - he was _afraid_ of _him_. He - he didn’t mean to do this. 

He heard a shuffle to his right, and that was when Castiel remembered that he and Dean weren’t the only ones in the room. Sam was standing behind the table, protecting a frightened Jess behind his tall frame. 

“You’re - I’m - I didn’t _mean_ to. I--” Castiel began to panic. Dean sniffled and wiped some of the blood from his nose before getting up slowly, eyes locked on Castiel. He sucked in a breath, feeling himself retreat backwards as Dean approached him. 

“Cas, it’s okay,” He spoke softly. 

_No, no it’s not okay._ Castiel had gone _far_ out of line, regardless if he were about to be sold off or not. Last time he acted out of violence, the consequence was _death_. Surely Dean would rather get money out of him that just put an end to him altogether, and he had shown that even the mere thought of it angered him, but that had little meaning now with what they had planned to do with him. 

Dean continued to walk toward him slowly, and Castiel sank back, awaiting to get beaten for his misdeed. His breath became quick and uneven as he panicked and bowed his head with heavy regret, ready to accept whatever punishment Dean had in mind. 

He flinched when Dean placed his hands on his arms. “Hey, Cas, it’s okay buddy. Look at me.” Castiel kept his head down, shaking and muttering broken sentences that weren’t exactly understandable. “Look at me.” Dean said once more, this time with more command. Castiel obeyed, looking up at his master hesitantly. Dean’s eyes were full of concern and confusion; that was not what he expected. “What did you think was going to happen, Cas?” Dean asked gently. 

“Well, y-you know,” Castiel searched his eyes, trying to read and predict what Dean’s next move was. But all he found was more confusion. 

Dean wiped at his nose again, the flow of blood not letting up. He ended up having to lick more that had dripped to his lips. He shook his head lightly and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I don’t know, I really don’t.” 

Castiel looked at him with uncertainty. He had _heard_ them talking last night. There was no way he could simply dismiss what he had heard, even though Dean was being quite convincing that he knew nothing of what he himself was conspiring. His lip formed into a small snarl at the thought of Dean’s supposed ignorance.

“But last night Dean, y-you said…” Castiel trailed off, voice wavering from weakness. 

 

Dean furrowed his brow, mind racking over everything he spoke to the angel yesterday, for any clue. 

“If I did anything to upset you, Cas, I’m sorry.” He said helplessly, still at a loss. 

“To - to _upset me_?” Castiel sputtered, face expressing a rainbow of emotions. “I heard you Dean, I know the truth.” His shoulders dropped. “Please just...just stop _lying_ to me already.” he pleaded. 

Heard? “What did you hear, man? I’m not lying - at least, I don’t think so, but I can’t exactly know if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be lying about?” He was starting to get a little desperate, what on earth was he--

Wait, last night? He _heard_?

“Did you hear us talking in the other apartment?” He asked quickly, hoping that it would shed some damn fucking light on this mess of a situation. 

“Why would he punch you over that?” Sam countered from behind him, looking equally confused.

Castiel looked at them both with disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I?” he snapped before he corrected himself. “I-I-I kn-know th-that was very, very wrong... b-but…” He looked so tired, and just as desperate as Dean felt.

“Cas, why were you angry about what you heard? I thought - I thought you’d be happy, dude!” Dean exclaimed, even more confused than before. He watched Cas’ face twist even farther, and began to fear for the safety of his face.

Castiel scoffed. “ _H-happy_? Wh - why would I be _happy_? I like it here, Dean, a-and I…” He let out a shaky breath and said quietly, “I thought you liked me here, too.” 

“Cas, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. No one is going anywhere!” Dean said, slightly exasperated. “I love having you here and that’s never going to change…” _What the fuck is he talking about?_ Whatever it was, it was apparently bad enough to get _punched in the face_ for. God, his face hurt.

 

Cas reached up to grip his hair, then pulled his hands back down. “I-I -- you! You were talking about selling me, what are you saying now?” He exclaimed.

Dean froze. _What?_ Had he heard that right? “You - you thought we were talking about _selling_ you?” 

Angry tears pricked Cas’ eyes. “Yes! I have been doing nothing but my best and you - you _promised_! I-I don’t understand--” His breathing started to get a little sporadic. “Is it because of John? Is it because - I-I don’t know why y-you… _why_?” He balled his hands into fists. “Just - just _tell me_!”

“Oh, sweetie…” Jess lamented, leaning against a confused Sam. 

Dean reached out for Cas, laying a calm hand on his shoulder. “Cas, Cas, buddy! Calm down, and look at me. I don’t know what you thought you heard, but it was obviously _way_ out of context. It’s alright, okay? We are not going to sell you. We would never, _ever_ do that! We - we _love_ you.” Dean assured him strongly. He bit the inside of his cheek. Cas had seriously thought he would sell him? Did Cas still not trust him, even after...everything they did, and shared? It felt like bile was rising in his throat.

Cas stared at him, still apprehensive. “Then, what were you talking about? Y-you said you didn't want me to know--”

“It’s a good thing, Cas, I just didn’t want to tell you until I was sure because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Although I guess that’s out the window, now.” Dean sighed and took a deep breath. 

“Cas,” Dean continued, “I’ve been talking with Michael… if we’re able to, we’re gonna track down where the rest of your siblings are down here, and go buy them to so we can bring them North with us. If we can. It’s a big ‘if’. I-I just thought that we might as well try, right?” There was silence, heavy and hard to swallow. 

 

Castiel stared at Dean with shock. His mind was still trying to catch up with what he just heard. Dean wasn’t… he _wasn’t_ going to sell him? He wasn’t going to sell him and he was… he was going to buy his siblings? “Wh - wha…?” was all Castiel was able to say. That was definitely _not_ what he heard last night. Could… could it really be true?

“We’re gonna try to get your family back, Cas.” Dean gave Castiel’s shoulder a light squeeze and gave a reassuring smile, though it was a bit bleak with the blood still pouring from Dean’s nose. Dean sniffled a bit, padding at the blood with his knuckle. 

“So you’re… _not_ going to sell me?” The question was asked timidly, spoken in two shaky breaths. 

 

“No Cas, no; you’re not going anywhere.” Dean assured him, heart twisting. 

Castiel’s eyes widened even farther, and then horror struck his features. “Your - your face, a-and I - oh my - I-I--” 

“It’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt that bad. You were defending yourself, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Dean said, shaking his head. 

“I _hit_ you--” Castiel exclaimed in horror.

“--and you have a damn good right hook. Let it go, it was justified. How about you help me get cleaned up, Knock Out.” Dean said, jerking his thumb towards the hallway. He wished the bitter taste in his mouth would go away. Cas frowned, but gave a slight nod and trailed behind him. 

They headed to the bathroom, and Dean got the first aid kit out and sat on the toilet lid. He wiped his blood from his face and threw away the wipe he’d used, then smiled at Cas and held up a jar. 

“Help me rub this on the bruise, eh? I don’t want it to swell and shit, this beauty is hard enough to maintain.” He joked, but he did not bring a smile to Castiel’s face. He took the jar and scooped a bit of salve up onto his index and middle finger, and leaned to gently massage it into the bruised skin. Dean didn’t even flinch. Besides, the pain inside him was far more severe. He’d had more than a few black eyes in his day.

Cas’ face was still twisted up in remorse and shame, however. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

“Don’t you dare, you _should_ have. I--” Dean grimaced for a moment as he tried to think of how he wanted to word this next part. “I never want you to feel like you have to be docile. That’s bullshit, if someone’s fucking with you, fucking you over, or trying to fuck you, you _damn well_ better beat their fucking face in, do you understand me?” He said vehemently. 

Castiel startled at Dean’s tone, fingers flinching back slightly before returning to their job. “I…” Cas bit his lip. “Y-yes, Dean.”

Dean turned his head slightly to the side, and clenched his jaw. Castiel felt it under his fingertips, but didn’t comment on it. He pulled back when the job was done.

“Does that feel any better?” Cas asked him quietly. 

Dean nodded. “It does, thanks, buddy.” He told Cas as he stood up again, and took the salve from the angel with a forced smile. He screwed the lid back on and put it back in the first-aid kit. Why was he being so stupid about this? It shouldn’t bother him so much that Cas would even think that he could do something like that. Since when has he cared what other people think?

_Forever, dumbass._ His mind replied in an unamused tone. 

The silence was near unbearable. He felt like he needed to say something, anything, to try and soothe the tension between them. But what was he supposed to say? He wasn’t exactly good at talking. 

“Look, dude. I get--” He started to sigh, but was cut off by a slamming noise and shouting that seemed to be coming from down the hall. His head whipped around, and Castiel flinched back. They both seemed to move after that at the same time, however, heading out the door and into the living room. The source of the noise was one very angry and very sweaty looking Balthazar.

“ _Where is he_? I _swear_ to _God_ I’ll fight _every one of you_ \--” Balthazar was raving at a terrified looking Jess and Sam, but stopped when he saw Cas. He raced to Cas’ side, turned to put himself between Cas and Dean and glaring at Dean.

“You! I oughtta - He _believed_ in you! What gives you _fucking humans_ the right!” Balthazar was shaking with fury, struggling to form complete sentences. Dean just stared at him in shock. Castiel grabbed Balthazar’s shoulder desperately. 

“Balthazar, stop! I was wrong. They aren’t going to sell me!” He exclaimed. Understanding dawned in Dean’s mind. That was what this was about, now it made sense. 

Balthazar turned to Cas. “What? But you said--”

 

Cas was flushing from embarrassment. “I - I misunderstood what I overheard. They aren’t going to sell anyone, they want to find my other siblings and bring them with us.” He explained.

Balthazar pursed his lips, and turned his head back to Dean. “Well I must look like a complete ass.”

“Only a partial ass, actually.” Dean decided to comment, shrugging. Balthazar’s eyes narrowed.

“What the fuck happened to your face, Pretty Boy?” He demanded.

Dean frowned at the nickname. “You have _rainbow wings--_ ”

 

“Cas punched him in the face.” Sam supplied, grinning. 

 

Balthazar smiled at that, putting his hand to his chest. “Oh my god, Cas, I love when you’re feisty.” Castiel’s brow furrowed. “Remember that one time you stabbed--” He began to chortle, but a stern look from Cas cut him off. Dean blinked.

Castiel let out a deep sigh. He didn’t need to be reminded right now of how harmful he was to others, and how no matter how much he tried, there seemed to be no end to his destructiveness. _Hopeless._

Balthazar came all this way for what? _Wait_ \- “How did you get here?” Castiel asked. 

Balthazar chuckled nervously. “Well I--” 

Before he could finish, the front door swung open with such force that it caused the wall it slammed against to shake. Both Castiel and Balthazar flinched, and all their heads turned to find a rather exhausted and enraged Dorothy, still clad in her sparkly pink pajamas. 

“Oh no,” Balthazar muttered to himself. 

“ _Balthazar_ fuck were you _thinking_?” Dorothy exclaimed through huffs, sounding as if she ran there all the way. 

The angel in question pulled his wings tightly behind his back. “I just -- _hmm_!” He let out a surprised yip, and everyone turned to him with questionable looks on their faces. “Uh-u-uh…” he stuttered, face flushed.

_Oh._

“I have something urgent to take care of. I’ll just be in Cassie’s room.” He pointed to the closed door with his thumb, gave them all a curt smile, and practically ran to Castiel’s room. 

“God dammit,” Dorothy sighed, running a hand through her bedhead just before Balthazar retreated behind the closed door. “Don’t think you’re off the hook for this!” She shouted. The only response she got from that was a muffled groan, and some other noises that probably weren’t meant for them to hear. 

“Jesus,” Dean muttered, “Could you keep it down in there?” He called out. 

“You and Cas were much worse.” Sam stated. 

Castiel ducked his head at that and looked away. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Turning to Dorothy, he said, “Well, can’t say I expected to see you this early. Nice umm…” he motioned at her outfit. 

Dorothy pursed her lips and tried to straighten out her scraggly hair. “Yeah well, nice face.” she countered. 

Dean scoffed, and Castiel could see his expression harden slightly. He felt the guilt build deep in the pit of his stomach, rising up and threatening to take control. This was all just one big disaster, one that he caused. Of course he caused it, he always does. A huge part of him wondered if Dean would get rid of him now. Sure, he said over and over that he wouldn’t but truthfully, what was stopping him? 

“Sorry about Balthazar storming in like that,” Dorothy apologized, glancing over to the closed door just across the room.

“No, I get it.” Dean gave her a small smile of reassurance, though it looked forced. “Did you two run all the way over here or something?” 

Dorothy laughed drying. “No, he drove.” 

“He _drove_?” Dean gawked. 

“Okay, I’m finished.” Balthazar announced quietly as he began to sulk towards Dorothy. His face was still flushed, and his shoulders were tense, hunched over. He was scared. It was Castiel’s fault that he was now put in this position. 

“What were you _thinking_ , Balthazar? You don’t just _steal_ my car keys and blaze off into the sunrise!” Dorothy began. “Do you know how _lucky_ you are that there were no cops around? You know what they would’ve _done_ to you?” 

Balthazar looked to the floor and played with hem of his shirt nervously. “Yes,” 

Castiel’s heart sank and his wings drooped at the thought.

Dorothy’s face softened. “I worry about you, you know that.”

“Well I was worried about Cas.” He replied defensively. “And I would do it again, without a second thought.” His feathers ruffled, his eyes snapping to glare at Dean’s, then back to Dorothy’s in a challenging manner. 

Dorothy sighed. “I don’t doubt it. But I just want to make sure that you’re aware of the trouble you could have gotten into, the trouble Benny and _I_ could have gotten into because of your rash behaviour. We would have been _heavily_ fined and put under strict government surveillance. There’d be _no_ way we’d ever go North after that. And then you, you…”

“I knew the risks.” Balthazar glared. “But I didn’t care. I already thought I lost Castiel once. I’m not - I can’t lose him. He’s all I have.” he admitted with a hint of desperation. 

_I didn’t mean to cause all this._

“Balthazar,” Castiel put his hand on his shoulder. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.” _Or so Dean continues to say._ He didn’t know what to believe. His body was exhausted and his mind was a wreck, Balthazar being his only constant throughout his many years of turmoil. 

His friend nodded, pulling himself back together. Turning to Dean, he said, “Sorry for barging in with such hostility and with being in such condition, but do not misunderstand: you hurt Castiel, I’ll hurt you _much_ worse than whatever he can do to you. And _believe_ me, that’s saying something.” 

“Bal--” Castiel began to scold. 

“When will you guys _finally_ believe me when I say that I will never hurt you!” Dean interrupted with a harshness in his words. 

“It’s not that easy, Dean!” Balthazar snapped back. Castiel gave a faint nod of agreement. He understood that Dean was a good man, but trust that - it was such a delicate thing. At this point in time, he had no idea where that delicate trust he had given to Dean so carelessly lied. _Stupid, stupid Castiel._

“Yeah, I know,“ Dean sighed, “It’s just that - yeah, this was all a big misunderstanding.” he quickly began to brush off with a smile that Castiel didn’t buy as true. It only added to the sickness churning in his stomach. “The only place Cas is going is North with all of us, and his siblings when we find the rest of them. This includes you, Balthazar, unless you’d like to stay here.” His voice hinted that the last statement was meant to tease. 

“God no.” Balthazar replied quickly, shaking his head to himself. “I know we’re having such a fun time, but it’s best for us to leave. Sorry for the mess, Cassie. Come along, Dorothy, it’s time to go.”

“Keys first, Bossy Feathers.” Dorothy held out a hand while the other rested on her hip, looking at him with unamusement. 

Balthazar let out a huff and dug his hand into his pocket, fishing out the keys. Dorothy quickly snatched them out of his hand. 

“See you later, Dean!” Dorothy bid goodbye as she dragged Balthazar out of the apartment by his wrist. 

“Ouch! I didn’t know you liked it rough.” Balthazar quipped.

“Oh shut it.” Dorothy almost snapped as she closed the door behind them. Castiel hoped his friend would be alright. 

_I’m sorry._

\---

“You’re grounded.” Dorothy finally spoke once they were driving away from Castiel’s.

 

“ _What_?” Balthazar looked at her with shock. “You’re _grounding me_?”

Dorothy didn’t reply, let alone acknowledge his disbelief. Her face stayed firm and focus, looking at nothing but the road in front of her. 

Heavens, she _was_ being serious. 

“Unbelievable.” Balthazar exclaimed, shaking his head as he turned to look out the passenger window. He hadn’t been grounded since he was seventeen - almost a whole decade ago! His parents would lock him in his room (no, really, they would. He’d snuck once, and that was it. Out with the locks. ‘Overprotective’ and ‘controlling’ was an understatement.) and only let him out when he had to use the bathroom or go to school. 

He wondered how Dorothy would ground him, given some people took the meaning differently. Would she cut off all communication he had with Castiel? He sure hoped not. He knew full well that wouldn’t end well for any of them, he’d make sure of it; though, he hoped that it would never come to that. Balthazar was _not_ going to lose Castiel, not again, not _ever_. 

Would they deprive him of food? Make him sleep in the shed? Make him sleep _outside_ the shed? He didn’t feel like that was something they’d do but, he never acted so rashly like this before. When he overheard one side of the conversation Sam and Dorothy were having over the phone, he only assumed Castiel’s claims were true, and he rushed into action, barely even thinking and only moving by instinct. 

He had driven a bit before, but it had been so long, and he might have done a little bit of speeding as he broke multiple other laws. To be honest, it all happened so fast so most of all that was a blur. But he got there, he made sure Cassie was okay, and that’s what mattered, even though that meant being punished just for making sure his best friend wasn’t being sold off to Heaven knows where. 

Soon, he began to worry, fingers going back to thumble with the hem of his shirt. Dorothy still seemed to be keen on giving him the silent treatment, much to his dismay. He was beginning to feel anxious and a little bit antsy. 

A sudden rush of heat shot through his body, causing him to gasp. His wings spread out without warning, smacking the passenger windows on either side and Dorothy’s face on the way there, bending and cramping in their restricted position they decided to put themselves in. 

Dorothy swerved on the road, eyes wide and looking at nothing but a feathery rainbow. “Balthazar what the f--!”

“Aaah _aaaaah_ , Dorothy please don’t breathe in my wings!” 

“Then get them out of m-- _mmmmh!_ ” 

“ _Don’t eat my feathers Jesus woman_!” Balthazar sputtered in a single squeal. Dorothy batted at his wing. “ _Ow_ ow ow ow owow don’t they’re _sensitive_!” 

Dorothy coughed. “Then get them out of my face for chrissakes I _can’t fucking see_!” Sounds of people honking angrily could be heard for coming all around them.

Taking in a few deep breaths to calm himself, he was finally able to get his over-grown wings to do his bidding, falling back to his side awkwardly, but out of the way. 

“The _fuck_ was that about?” Dorothy demanded. Balthazar opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Dorothy spoke again. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re going into heat _in_ my car!” 

“It’s not like I can control it! I’m diseased, remember?” Balthazar defended, if not with a bit of bitterness.

Dorothy winced a little. “But didn’t you get off not even half-an-hour ago?” 

“It can be very unpredictable!” Balthazar explained. He couldn’t believe this was happening right now. Couldn’t it have waited for at least ten more minutes? It didn’t take long for his underwear to become damp, and he shifted uncomfortably. 

“Nope. Uh-uh. You are _not_ getting slick all over my car!” Dorothy shook her head. 

“I - I can’t _help_ it!” he sputtered. He couldn’t help the shameful way his body worked. His face and the tips of his ears heated up even more than before, if that were possible. “And it - it’s not like you haven’t _bled_ everywhere at least once in your life!”

“Hey, that’s different!” 

“Not really! Well, I guess but - that’s not the point! I have a time of the month, you have a time of the month, and they’re both something that is completely out of our control!” Dorothy wasn’t quick to make a reply, so Balthazar took that as a small victory. But he couldn’t just _not_ talk, not now, not when he’s horny as fuck and now they’re _stuck behind traffic why did this have to happen today?_ “Except during my time, it’s my body wanting a baby so bloody badly, while yours is just a bloody mess as it rid of carnage and--”

“We are definitely not talking about this right now.” She cut him off in in denial and cranked the radio, some horrid love ballad blasting from the speakers. This was going to be a long ride back home.

\---

After Balthazar and Dorothy left, Cas disappeared to his room. Sam advised Dean it might not be the greatest idea to press on that nerve right now, so he just got ready and headed to work. And, like fucking usual, the traffic was atrocious. As if he wasn’t already in a horrific mood. 

The minute he walked into the door, a curious Benny was upon him. 

“Hey, brother. Any idea why Balthazar went off in a fit this morning? And good golly, what in God’s name happened to your mug?” Benny said, blinking at his blossoming black eye. Dean gave him a sour look and walked towards the coffee machine. Benny didn’t seem to get the message, and followed him.

“Did you get in a fight or something? Are Balthazar and Dorothy okay? Sam and Jess?” Benny demanded. Dean sighed, and turned on his heel to face his friend.

“No, I didn’t get in a fight. They are all okay. They’re fuckin’ peachy. Cas decked me in the face. He has a mean right hook.” Dean deadpanned, then lifted his cup to his lips. Before he could take a drink, however, a voice bellowed from behind him.

“My brother punched you? Why? What did you do! Did you assault him?” Michael practically shouted, wings faring as he stormed forward. Dean jerked and spilled coffee all over his shirt, cursing. Luckily, he’d poured a lot of cream and sugar in, so it didn’t scald him. Benny’s eyes went wide and he winced. 

Michael did not seem at all deterred by their reactions. He got right up in Dean’s face, practically pressing him back against the coffee counter. Dean resisted the urge to shove him back, because he really wasn’t keen on getting punched by anymore angry angels today. 

“I didn’t assault him, in fact, I didn’t do anything! He had a freaking break down because he misunderstood an overheard conversation about the fucking plan to save the rest of your family, and thought we were going to sell him.” Dean exclaimed.

Michael didn’t move, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to study Dean intently. “My brother was always even tempered. I doubt he would react to such a thing so drastically with no evidence.” He said, voice tinged with suspicion. Dean rose up a little taller, pressing back into Michael’s space as much as he could. 

“Well, you haven’t seen your brother since he was a little fucking kid, and now he’s been tortured and traumatized to hell. So maybe you aren't as smart and observant as you think you are, buddy. You’re pussy is way too dry to be riding my dick like this, so how about you _back off._ ” Dean practically snarled, tilting his head slightly. His head was pounding, his face was swelling up, his heart ached, his gut was twisted in knots and he was almost a hundred percent done with existence itself.

Michael was silent and still for a moment, before slowly his wings lowered, and he stepped back. His expression was once again unreadable. All the other angels who had been watching turned and headed into the garage, whispering among themselves. Michael stayed there for a moment.

“I will not apologize. We will return to work, and afterwards we will talk about our plans.” He said, nodding and turning to follow the other angels. Dean watched him go, before turning towards Benny as he _finally_ took a swig of his fucking coffee. Benny’s eyes were wide and his lips were pursed.

“Well I’ll be--” He started to say, voice amused and tight. Dean cut him off.

“Don’t. Let’s just get to fucking work.” He sighed, knocking back what was left of his coffee. 

\---

Even with his head ducked into his locker, the sound of the angels cleaning up after a day’s work the only accompaniment to the overbearing noise in his head. As if he couldn’t escape his own insidious thoughts. 

_How is he ever supposed to look at you again without seeing your father? You should have known. Should have stopped it. After everything...you couldn’t keep one promise. No wonder he would believe you would sell him. Don’t you deserve to be demonized? A human male in the South, who has never before bothered to raise his voice? You think you’re a good person all the sudden because you fucking bought someone for a good reason?_

“Hey, Dean?” A voice said next to him, snapping him out of his downward spiral. He turned to see Benny leaning against the lockers, looking concerned.

“Everything is gonna be alright, buddy.” Benny assured him. Dean forced a smile, but it probably came off as sarcastic. Then he slammed his locker shut and headed into the main building, where Dorothy had finally arrived.

“Hey, guys. How’s Cas?” She asked when Dean approached. Dean just shrugged, and Dorothy exchanged a glance with her brother. “Well, I’ve decided I’m going to spend the night here and help Michael with his research. It’ll be a sleepover, I’ve bought some snacks for the angels and everything.” She announced. Dean nodded to her words, and Benny smiled.

“Did you bring the minion jammies?” Benny teased. His sister slapped him lightly on the arm.

“Don’t be such a git, you’re the one who has to go home and deal with a grounded, still-in-heat Balthazar!” She said. Benny’s face fell, and he cocked his head.

“Oh, so we’re grounding him? What exactly does that entail?” He asked.

“No desserts. Just vegetables. And no TV, just his phone.” Dorothy said primly. Benny burst out in laughter.

“Wow, way to be a hardass, _Mother_.” He chuckled. Dorothy rolled her eyes.  
“Well, what he did was stupid and dangerous, but it was understandable, and it’s not like we can really blame him. I _would_ take the phone away, but with Cas the way he is, I didn’t think it was the wisest move.” Dorothy shrugged. Dean felt a stab of emotion, and clenched his jaw.

“Nah, nah, it’s all alright. I’ll just be creative about it.” Benny snickered. Dean raised an eyebrow, and Dorothy just shook her head with a smile.

“Well, you two better get going. I’ll close up shop and get started on Operation: Sleepover.” Dorothy said, walking away from them to her desk. Dean turned and headed for his car, waving goodbye to them with another fake smile, dread lining the pit of his stomach.

\---

The door shutting behind him seemed louder than it normally did. The lights in the apartment were off, and everything was silent. Dean took a heavy step forward and looked down the hallway. Cas’s door was closed. He felt his frown deepen, and turned away. Instead, he headed towards the door between the apartments, and knocked.

His mother opened the door, wearing an apron and holding a menacingly sharp knife. 

She smiled brightly. “Dean! You’re home! Just in time for the apple pie and lemonade I made!” Dean blinked, a sense of trembling nostalgia and gentle joy filling him. A slight relief from the misery weighing his bones down.

“You made pie?” He asked, mind filling with fond memories of his mother’s pie from childhood. The perfect flaky crust and sweet fruity filling, all made from scratch. The comfort food to end all comfort foods. 

She smiled the understanding smile only a mother could manage, and lead Dean into Sam and Jess’ kitchen. The smell hit him full force and he almost swayed, tension slowly leaving his frame. She sat him down at the counter and cut a piece of fresh, golden apple pie and set it on a plate in front of him. 

He dug in enthusiastically, making an obscene moaning sound as he tasted it. 

“So, how was your day?” She asked, eyes flicking to his black eye. He shrugged, taking another bite of the pie and not looking her in the eyes.

“Exhausting.” He replied shortly. She nodded, a knowing expression on her features. She wiped her hands on her apron idly. He watched those hands move instead of looking up at her. Those hands that had brushed his hair, checked his fever, made his food. Those hands that could handle a rifle better than half the South, and didn’t hesitate to push her own husband away from her family, when it came time. Just like a mother should be. Gentle, but fierce and firm.

“I’m sure Cas is just embarrassed. From what Jess and Sam have told me, and from what I've seen, he has some internal issues with expressing himself. I imagine it’s to be expected.” She suggested. 

Dean furrowed his brow, expression sour. He turned his eyes farther downward, to his plate. 

“Expected when?” He asked.

“Well...this might seem ridiculous coming from me, but...I’ve tried to live my life peacefully in my own corner. Never owned a slave but never went to a rally. I just wanted to go about my business, there wasn’t anything I could do. I imagine that may have been a mistake, but I’m not sure. Regardless, Dean, just because I never said anything doesn’t mean I haven’t always seen and thought things. And the one thing that always struck me about how this society treats angels is how they put them into cages both mentally and physically.” She sighed. 

Dean frowned, and finally looked up to make eye contact with her. Her eyes were full of something he didn’t recognize, and he had no idea how to feel about that look in the eyes of his mother. 

“Angels are a whole different race of people, Dean. But they are still people. And while I imagine that their hormones play roles and what not, I’m not exact on the science...since when does instinct equate to personality?” She asked thoughtfully, sadly. She turned her head away, looking strangely translucent in the light. He could only stare at her.

“What do you mean?”He managed to ask, genuinely intrigued. He knew his mother was intellectual, she had always had such a bright mind, but he’d never heard her talk like this. He suddenly wondered how long she had remained so silent on observations and emotions she’d obviously not been able to resist. 

“Well, we force alphas to work for us, to do heavy lifting. We expect them all to be aggressive, strong, brawn over brain, and all that. When I was young, every day I walked past a construction site on my way home from sophomore year of high school. Every day, I would stare at the alpha angels being forced to work there, but I would pretend I wasn’t. Most days it was all what you would expect. Working hard, growling at each other if they got too close in their space, being yelled at by the project manager if they weren’t doing something right. Their faces were hard, and their stances were always rigid. I thought that was how all alphas were. That’s what we were taught. Alphas were strong, possessive, controlling. Those were the nice scientific words, but you could hear the translations in between the lines. Brutish. Rough. Harsh. I was afraid of them, more than any other slave or overpowered man. But one day, I saw something, and I suddenly felt horribly ashamed for letting others dictate what I thought of an entire sect of people.” She sighed, looking distant and sad.

“One day, I was walking home, and I saw one of the alphas stop what he was doing. So I stopped in my tracks, to see what he was walking towards. He walked over so swiftly and intensely, I thought he was angry. I thought they were always angry. But then he kneeled down in the dirt, away from the others, and spread his wings out. It was frightening from where I was standing, those wings were so big and the muscles rippled so powerfully. I instantly thought it was some show of strength, of dominance. 

“The project manager noticed and stormed over - a truly brutish man, with a face like a pig and an electric whip of some sort in his hand. Small and compact, with no wings to speak of, no height to tower over others. And somehow more dangerous and imposing looking than any alpha. He stormed over and brought the electric rod down curtly on one of the alpha’s wings. I can’t imagine how painful that is, even for alpha’s, whose wings aren't as sensitive as an omega’s. The alpha stood and whirled around, standing a foot taller than the man, wings risen up, casting a shadow. But they were not flared out in anger or a show of dominance. They were curled in a bit, like a shield. His arms were not moving out to shove the man or flexing. They were held in against his chest, cradling a kitten. A gray kitten with white paws, and what looked like a broken leg, covered in dried blood. 

“The project manager scoffed and told him, rather loudly, to throw it in the large garbage can near the manager’s worksite trailer. The alpha just shook his head, drawing his wings in tighter, putting his appendages between the man and the kitten in his arms. The manager got terribly angry, and began to beat against the alpha’s wings with the electric rod. The other alphas stopped working to stare, looking conflicted as to what to do. None of them moved. Not a single one. Huge men and woman, with huge wings, and huge muscles. They could have chucked the smaller man over the fence. They didn’t. The manager kept beating the alpha’s obtrusive wing, and I could see the feathers turning dark and some of them fell away, the skin red. The alpha fell to his knees, but just drew his wings tighter as a shield. The kitten started to cry, and despite the fact he was being hit and electrocuted, the alpha began to hush and comfort it inside the shield he had made out of his own body. 

“I was frozen on the sidewalk, staring, and I felt like I was sinking into molasses the whole time. But, something about the sound of the kitten crying and him trying to comfort it in a hushed voice broke me out of the spell. And broke something inside of me, at the same time. Suddenly, I was running forward. I threw myself against the chain link fence and begged the man to stop. They all froze and whipped to stare at me. They hadn’t even noticed me. The manager looked horrified, a young, sweet-looking Southern girl having heard him wanting to throw a kitten away. It occurred to me I was crying. But he had stopped. 

“I stuck my arms through the holes in the fence - it was a large fence, so it wasn’t hard. I was a small girl. I told the alpha to give the kitten to me, that I would take care of it. He stood, and crossed the yard to the fence. None of the other alphas or the manager moved - they were all too shocked that I had seen it all to do anything, I imagine. The closer he got, the better I could smell singed feathers and burnt flesh. But the alpha didn’t look perturbed at all, he was smiling gently. The kindest, gentlest smile I have ever seen, or at least, that I had ever seen. He must be in unimaginable pain, but he was smiling so...lovingly. Warmly. He lifted the kitten up and kissed its little head, and then handed it to me through the fence. I wrapped it in my arms as he had, but I was still staring up at him. He smiled wider, if that was possible, and told me I was beautiful, and he told me thank you. I knew I should have told him thank you, for saving its life. For giving so much. For being so kind. For being so strong, because I learned what real strength was that day. But the words were caught in my throat. I turned, and ran the whole way home. 

“I was not supposed to talk to angels, let alone tell them thank you. They were lesser, I was told. In that moment and for the rest of my days afterwards, thought, I felt as if I were the lesser one. I nursed the kitten back to health and kept it, I named it Angel. My parents thought it was a silly name. It lived a long, happy life. It was waiting by the door everyday for me to get home from school, which I needed. Because every day coming home after that, for as long as that construction site was there, I looked for that alpha, and I never saw him again. The others gave me dark looks, and I knew. I knew he was dead. There’s is no room for gentle, kind alphas in the niche we’ve forced them to be. I should have said thank you, because I know he knew he was going to be killed, and he still smiled. It would be a long time until I would see a smile as bright and kind as that one. I’m not sure when, but at some point, I found it again. On your face, Dean. That terrifies me, but… it also makes me proud.” She finished, turning back to him with a tearful smile on her own features. It seemed a brittle smile.

Dean stared at her, feeling moved to his core. He’d never heard of this side of his mother, but it did not surprise him whatsoever. The part that did come as a shock to him was that his mother could ever say he had such a feature. He wasn’t...he wasn’t that good. That strong. He could never be like that, she must have just imagined that was what his smile contained. Still, the comparison unsettled something in him. He swallowed, and cleared his throat.

“So what you’re saying is...we stereotype angels, to control them. I understand that, I see it. But...what does this have to do with Cas right now?” He asked, voice coming hard to him through the lump in his throat.

“Betas, they’re told that they have to be smart, calm, emotionally detached. I haven’t met many betas, but I have a feeling that not every single beta is a multi tasking Vulcan. But omegas...what we do to omegas is without a doubt the most sinister of all, and how we try to condition them is as well. They’re told they were born to be submissive, to be dominated. That they are supposed to be obedient, and that they are supposed to enjoy it because that’s their nature. Cas was taken as a child from the North, and God knows what they did to such a child to try and institute this brainwashing. But, from what I’ve seen of our dear Castiel...he does not fit into that mold. He’s fucking pissed off. He’s angry, he’s strong, he wants to stand up for himself. But obviously, that clashes with what he’s supposed to be, what he wants to be, with what’s probably along the lines of PTSD from everything they’ve done to him. I talked to Jess, and she told me about when you first met him. Can you imagine, standing up for yourself, and being told you have a mental disorder? Those behavioral disorders are just pure lies, another facet of the stereotype they try to use to control them. It’s psychological warfare, Dean. And Castiel has a constant battle going in his head. He trusts you more than anyone else, but he’s still fighting, and it takes it’s toll.” Mary explained, reaching to rest a hand on his hand..

Dean nodded, shoulders sagging. “I wish I could just...take it all away. And how can he trust me? When I _bought_ him? When I’m the son of the man that fucking raped him in our bathroom? When I’m a human? How can he trust me and then think so easily that I would sell him? Deep down, he must not really trust me. I don’t know how to get through to that part of him, and I’m not sure I have the right to try.” He lamented. 

Mary smiled sadly, and leaned to kiss him on the forehead. “He does trust you, a lot. But he’s battle torn, Dean. He’s lived his life fighting and being hurt. Another instinct that has been drilled into him is to react to even the slightest threat. You can’t take it all away, life doesn’t work like that. You can just do your best to be there for him, and I’m always here for you. Because I know you’re fighting your own battles. You try to pretend you’re not, but we all know. Except for Cas, that is. Maybe the key to getting him to open up more is for you to do the same.” She suggested softly. Then, before he could answer, she turned and started to walk down the hall.

“Finish your pie, I’ve got to do some laundry. I love you.” She bade farewell, and he was left alone in the kitchen with cold pie and his reeling thoughts.

\---

The day was approaching its imminent end, and Castiel’s state had improved very little, if even at all. He had kept to himself all day, remaining in his room and out of the way. He had barely eaten, spoken maybe only a word or two to Sam or Jess when they came to check in on him, and the only time he had left his room was to use to bathroom and clean up balthazar’s small mess. In that time period, he spent it sulking while either playing games on his phone, watching an endless stream of cat videos or attempting to read a book, but soon found that he couldn’t give it much concentration.

Castiel had heard Dean come home from work ten minutes ago, but went to Sam and Jess’s place just as soon as he arrived. Surely he was still angry with Castiel, as this was not something that could simply be forgiven. He couldn’t even forgive himself. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that there was indeed something wrong with him. There _had_ to be. 

He was taken away from his mind when his phone began to ring, Balthazar’s contact showing upon the screen. With a sigh, he picked it up. “Hello?” 

_”They’ve grounded me.”_

“What?” 

_”After have a very extensive chat with my dear masters, they have decided to ground me for my actions.”_ Castiel was about to reply when Balthazar replied more quietly, _”Although, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”_

_”I heard that.”_ came Benny’s voice. 

_”I mean - Cassie it’s_ horrible _! They’re depriving me of my most basic needs!”_ Castiel raised a brow at the obvious exaggeration in Balthazar’s voice. 

_”Dessert’s a second need at best,”_ Benny said. _”Mmm, this cake is delicious. Too bad you can’t have any.”_

_”You hear that? Now he’s_ torturing _me! This is too much, Benny!”_ He could hear the man let out a small huff of laughter. _”This is too much,”_ Balthazar repeated, the sounds of his footsteps retreating up a set of stairs, followed by the shutting of a door. His friend sighed. _”Yep, two weeks without dessert.”_

“I apologize for getting you into trouble,” Castiel said with sincerity. He was nothing but a fucking _idiot_. This was all his fault. 

_”Castiel, you have absolutely nothing to apologize about. What I did was of my own doing, and Dor and Ben took it really well, all things considered.”_

He was right. “I’m glad you’re okay. I....” Castiel trailed off, eyes casting down to his lap. 

_”You’re still beating yourself up about it, aren’t you?”_ Castiel gave no reply. _”It was as you said; a misunderstanding! It’ll be okay.”_

“You don’t _know_ that!” Castiel shouted loud than he intended.

_”If you’re not sure, then go talk with Dean. Clearly you two haven’t fully worked through this yet.”_

“No I… I can’t do that.” 

_“Yes, yes you can.”_ Balthazar reassured, sounding slightly impatient. 

“No, I can’t. I’ll - I’ll just end up making matters even worse, and knowing me that is definitely possible.” Castiel stressed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what, you’re right. It’ll be okay,” he lied, mostly just so they wouldn’t have to talk about his massive fuck up any longer. 

_“Don’t think you’re fooling me for a second, Cassie, I know you think otherwise.”_

Castiel sighed in defeat. “I just - can we not talk about it right now? Shouldn’t you be off fucking yourself?” 

_”Oooooooh, someone’s a moody grump.”_ Balthazar said with slight offence.

“I’m sorry Balthazar that was - I shouldn’t be taking this out on you. I should probably just go.” 

_”Get some sleep, please, you’ll feel a bit better.”_

“Okay.” Castiel replied shortly. 

_”And now I must be off, bedroom duties call. Love you! And please just talk to him--”_

“But--”

_”--Bye!”_ Balthazar hung up, leaving Castiel to feel just as perturbed as he had before, if not even more. His friend’s abruptness unsettled him. Was… was Balthazar mad at him too?

_I was a bit harsh I suppose. Damnit!_ Castiel groaned and threw himself down on his bed, wincing when he fell on his still healing wing in a most uncomforting position. _What else is fucking new._ He held himself up just enough to shake out his wing, carefully doing so as to not agitate it any further. Laying back down, he brought his wing in front of himself and folded it just enough that he was able to examine the damage done. There was a small bare patch where his feathers once were. The area was still quite sensitive, but nothing like it was the first couple of days. _They’ll start growing back soon,_ he thought as he rested his wing and began to run his fingers through his feathers absently.

Thoughts like a deadly poison pulsed within his veins, slowly infecting his mind and soul. They made his guts twist and turn, his head ache and body weak. 

_”You’ll never be good,”_ taunted the voice. _”Are you even trying?”_

Castiel covered himself with his wing, bringing up closer to his face. He thought that he was finally getting better, he even began thinking that there wasn’t anything wrong with him all. Never had he been so wrong. 

_”I - I_ am _trying!”_ He was trying so, so hard. It frustrated him that it was never enough. _And it never will be._

He had let himself get too close to Dean. Dean has been so _good_ to him, and then _this_ was how Castiel repaid him. Hell, he was going to get his siblings back! That was the utter opposite of what Castiel had thought. Even now, he was still trying to wrap his head around it. It should have made him happy, joyful even, but it brought him fear and uncertainty. They hadn’t seen each other for so long, and even worse, Castiel’s memory of them was close to non-existent. There were bits and pieces he could remember, and he held onto those for dear life. Somewhere, they came loose and and drifted away, hidden behind years of pain. 

Would they remember him? Surely his younger brother Samandriel wouldn’t, as he was sold as a baby, but Anna, would she? And if she did, she’d only remember him as that blissfully ignorant, innocent child he once was. He couldn’t stand the thought of having her see him like this, of what he has become. He was absolutely _putrid_.

_Maybe this pain, this suffering, is everything I deserve._ The thought made his breath catch in his throat. It was true though, wasn’t it? Unwanted tears pricked his eyes, and battling them was no use. He was so tired. 

_No._ He shook his head in a sad attempt to shake away the thought and sat up. Maybe he should just - just go to bed already, as Balthazar had suggested. Yes, he should sleep. Sleep and just hope that... the nightmares would give him a rest. _Hah, yeah right._

Castiel got up from his bed and slowly made his way to the bedroom door. He stopped and listened for a second or so before turning the doorknob ever so slowly, afraid to walk into Dean just as he stepped out. The knob twisted soundlessly, and Castiel pushed the door open just a crack. He peered through the small opening he left himself, tentatively listening for the sounds of someone he didn’t want to face.

_Sneaking around - that’s something I’ve been doing a bit too frequently._ It’s what got him into trouble last night, listening in on things that weren’t meant for him to hear. He hesitated, slowly pulling his hand back from the knob. Confliction is what stopped him from leaving his room. Would it be good of him to remain there, tucked away and out of trouble? He wanted to be good, but he also wanted to do his nightly ritual of preparing for sleep, just as he has done every night. Would it be okay if he left? 

_”It doesn’t matter in the end. It’s no use. You’ll never be anything more than this.”_

Castiel struggled to push the hindering thoughts aside and opened his bedroom door, making his way to the bathroom without giving himself enough time for a second thought. He made it there without interruption or delay, not even sparing a glance to see if Dean was there. He shut the door behind him as he entered, turned on the light, and let out an uneven breath as he leaned against the door. His head hung low, trying to calm his inner turmoil, battling against everything that was crashing down on him all at once. 

Slowly, he approached the sink and stood there, chest heaving and hands shaking. The collar encasing his neck became heavy, not quite in the physical sense, but both mentally and emotionally. He lifted a hand to his collar, trembling fingers brushing over its soft brown leather as tears welled in his eyes. Was it sad that he barely had a single clear memory of being without its everlasting presence? There, it was always forced to be worn, rarely a moment it’s ever been taken off. Were the horrendous memories that tormented him endlessly not enough to remind him what he was? Did it stand as a symbol of how his existence belonged to the human who held his leash? 

_”Perhaps it’s simply for restraint,”_ the voice spoke with spite, _”God knows you need it.”_ Castiel winced, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his bottom lips as his gaze slowly lifted to the reflection in the mirror.

_”You’re an abomination,”_ it sneered. 

_”A freak.”_

_”S-stop,”_ Castiel pleaded weakly as his lip began to tremble, his eyes meeting his reflection’s, sight blurred by him unshed tears. 

_”Murderer.”_

Castiel broke. A heavy sob wracked through his body, sounds of sorrow and heartbreak erupting from his soul. Tears filled with guilt and bitter emotion streamed down his cheeks. His reflection was distorted, bleary, and grotesque. He couldn’t bear the sight of himself. 

_”Harm comes to everyone that crosses your path - harm that you’ve caused.”_

_”You deserve to die.”_

The thought made Castiel’s knees buckled beneath him and he sought support by clutching to the ledge of the sink. Was he - did he really deserve to die? He didn’t want to. 

_”You’re nothing but a monster that needs to be put down.”_

_”Zachariah should have followed through and let them kill you; he was only trying to insure that you would no longer bring anyone harm.”_

_”He was being merciful.”_

Castiel brought his shaking hands up to his mouth in attempts to muffle his sobs that just kept coming. _It’s true_ , he realised, _I deserve to die_. No amount of trying would make him docile and submissive as he was to be. He was a monster; a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

_”He could have shipped you off to be experimented on, to get picked apart for your organs, or even worse. There_ are _things worse than death.”_

Castiel wasn’t sure about that. He wasn’t sure of _anything_. Nothing made sense anymore and everything felt wrong. His breaths came out frantic, hands grasping for leverage as he lowered himself to the tile floor with wobbly legs. 

_”In the end, nobody would really care.”_

_”Your death would be a relief.”_

_”Who could ever love something like you?”_

The ground beneath him felt as if it were shattering, his knees hitting the floor with a bang. A tremor of pain rattled through his body from his knees, but he barely even noticed when his body was already a place of pain. 

_”Being put to death is the only way you could atone for what you have done.”_

_”Stupid little omega, thinking it deserved anything more.”_

_”Pathetic.”_

Castiel curled up on the cold tile floor, body still shaking with heavy sobs. He hid his snot and tear covered face in the crook of his arm, covering himself with his wings in a feeble attempt to comfort himself. Maybe he was just trying to hide himself from the boundless shame and guilt that finally pushed him over the edge. 

He didn’t deserve to live. He didn’t deserve _anything_. And that was it, he was just a - a _thing_. A filthy, disgusting, monstrous thing. His existence was a sin, and it corrupted everything it touched. 

Why Dean saved him in the first place, he didn’t know. He shouldn’t have fought it. Maybe if he hadn’t, they would have plunged that needle into him long before Dean even showed up. He would be gone, and no one would even notice. There may be Balthazar, but he knew his grievance would be short lived. Balthazar, his most beloved friend, hated him too, and Castiel was the only one to blame.

_It’s all my fault._

\---

Despite how he cleaned and maintained the Impala, Dean found it always still had an underlying smell. Like dust after rain, mingled with the old well kept leather. Not to say it was a _bad_ smell, per se. In fact, it was a comfort to Dean. Much like the darkness and the silence of the garage was a comfort, when his head seemed to be filled with so much noise. He rested his head back against the seat, breathing in deep as his mind continued to spiral. 

A few moments later he jerked in slight surprise as the passenger door opened, but relaxed when it was just his brother. Sam slide into the seat beside him and shut the door quietly. Dean kept staring at the ceiling as if nothing had happened. There was a heavy silence, and the moments ticked by like hours.

“It's not your fault.” Sam finally said. Dean felt his emotions spike at that, but did his best not to react.

“He needs someone who’s got their own shit in order to be there for him, man. I'm just has on the fire no matter how hard I try. Nothing new, though.” Dean muttered, voice edged with emotion as it wandered into the still air between them. 

Sam pursed his lips. “He's not Lisa, Dean.” he said softly. Dean closes his eyes, but it did nothing to defend from the bone deep sorrow that raced through him at the mention of that name.

“No, he's not. But there's a constant in the equation, or whatever. And that's me. I don't know how to do this right, I don't know how to help, I don't know how to fix this. Just like I didn't know what to do then.” Dean said, voice coming harder the more he talked.

“There was nothing you could do then, because it wasn't your fault. She made her own choices, she's the one who hurt you. And here, it's not anyone's fault. All you have to do is be there for him, to help him help himself. You’ve been doing a good job so far, this was just a misunderstanding. It doesn't reflect anything on anyone other than the fact that Cas has been hurt a lot, and you’ve got a really big soft heart, no matter what you like to pretend.” Sam said more firmly now, voice stern but warm.

Dean didn't reply, and they say there in silence for a while. 

“Do you think we’ll find the others?” Dean asked.

“I think we’ll find something.” Sam replied, breath fogging up as the night wore on and the garage got colder. 

\---

The two brothers eventually left the impala and went upstairs, parting ways to enter their individual apartments for the night. Dean felt heavy and tired and raw. He ran a hand over his face as he walked down the hallway. Just as he was about to head to bed, he paused and turned to Cas’ door. 

He pushed it open slightly, peeking in just to make sure everything was alright. To his surprise, the bed was empty and unslept in. Warning bells went off in Dean’s head, and he jerked back, whirling around. 

His eyes immediately caught the bathroom door - he could see through the crack at the bottom of the door that the light was on. Her furrowed his brow in confusion, but the immediate panic receded a little bit. Maybe Cas was still freshening up or whatever? Dean stood there for a moment, in between the two doors, and listened for any sign of activity. There was none, nothing but the white noise of the world outside the apartment filtering through the walls.

He bit his lip and took a few quiet steps forward, and slowly cracked the bathroom door, peeking in as he had before. To his surprise, he found the angel sleeping on the floor. He was curled up in a half fetal position, and his face was twisted up and streaked with tears. His wings kept occasionally twitching, as if in distress. Dean felt his heart twist in his chest, and his gut grew heavy. He pushed the door open farther, careful not to bump into the angel. With a sigh, he kneeled down and gently shook Cas’ shoulder. Cas only murmured and fretted in his sleep, with no sign of awakening. He was really out cold. 

With resignation, Dean grunted slightly as he maneuvered to gently scoop the angel up in his arms. To his surprise, his lower half was fairly light, but Cas’ wings - which had drawn tight around the angel - caused him to be fairly top heavy. Dean supposed he shouldn’t be that surprised. Angels were supposed to have lighter bones, differently woven muscles. As for the wings, even an omega like Cas would be top heavy, with two large appendages jutting out of his back that where half of his weight ratio. 

Dean stood finally, having adjusted to the weight balance. Before he could consider how to maneuver them out of the narrow bathroom door, the angel in his arms curled towards him, nuzzling into his chest and reaching to hold onto his shirt. Dean blinked down at Cas, the unconscious angel’s face somehow peaceful and tormented at the same time. He felt something familiar and unwanted rise up inside of him, something warm and unbidden. But it was there all the same, and everyday it grew stronger. Dean clenched his jaw and pushed it away, and focused on carrying Cas back to his bed. 

He didn’t have any right to wish that he could put Cas in his own bed instead, after all. He settled his sleeping friend in bed, and pulled the blankets over him, careful around the wings. Once he was done, he paused momentarily. Unable to resist himself, he reached a hand out and brushed the hair out of Cas’ face gently, letting his fingers delay.

Then he pulled away and returned to his own room, not bothering to take off his day clothes as he laid down and stared up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and pretended not to be bothered by the heaviness of his heart, or the dull ache of the bruise on his face. It was less than he deserved, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been so long. Thank you for continuing to be patient with us!  
> Tell us what you think!
> 
> We now have a timestamps work to go alongside the series! [Click here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5543495/chapters/12787790) to check it out.

**Author's Note:**

> [Playlist](http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/twilight-is-for-the-dying-stars)   
>  [Angel Playlist](http://8tracks.com/larabesque/olapireta-i-lap-a-page-aoiveae)


End file.
